


a mage’s whisper

by vwrages



Series: a mage’s word [2]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Fear of love, Getting Back Together, Ghosts, Hallucinations, Insanity, Losing faith, Loss of love, M/M, Reincarnation, Sapnap Pov, Slow Burn, feeling alone, magic magic and more magic, sapnap centric again, sapnap is scared to disappoint dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:48:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 21,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27647749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vwrages/pseuds/vwrages
Summary: “sapnap.” dream calls my name and my throat dries up, heart knotting itself over and over, and i blink away my tears fast.“sapnap, love, come find me.” he looks at me, and i pull the covers down from my face slowly. with a finger, he lifts my chin up slightly and i bat away my tears fast once again.“ill be waiting.”and then he’s gone.-its been a year since dream passed away, and sapnap is haunted by unforgiving memories of their past. amidst his grief, dream calls for sapnap to bring him home - and sapnap is determined to find closure in his death.(sequel to a mage's word)
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: a mage’s word [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2021554
Comments: 188
Kudos: 146





	1. chapter one

_ and i am running. _

_ i am running hard, fast - my lungs hurt, and sweat is plastering my hair to my face. but i keep running, towards nothing. and im not sure whats chasing me. _

_ i trip, a stone - and im falling in water again. _

and im awake.

panting hard, shaking weakly - my eyes search the darkness of the room, only to fall on the curtains to my left, fluttering hard in the harsh draft seeping inside the gaps of our windows. slowly, the fear in my throat disapates - and i make a quiet movement to leave the bed and pull the curtains shut tighter. hands grasped in the fabric, i close my eyes, rolling my heels on the floor boards - grounding myself, and a sound alerts me to the presence of someone else in the room. slowly, i drop my hands from the fabric and roll back on my feet again.

“dream?” i call softly, not removing my gaze from the curtains - and the wind rustles behind me. slowly, i turn - and watch george’s figure in bed, trying to search for my warmth amongst the sheets. unsurely, i make my way back to the bed - shuffling back under the sheets and george settles back next to me, letting out a contented sigh. and when i close my eyes, all i see and feel is him.

_ and he’s here. _

he’s on my body, touching me softly - and bracing me by my biceps. he’s admiring the new scars i wear with pride and he grins, taking my chin in one hand.

“you’ve grown sapnap.” and maybe i have, or maybe im scared to disappoint george - or let him down. falling was like a douse of ice water - and it woke me up fast. and george had cried when we returned home, saying that i had changed. he had clung to me, on my seventeenth birthday, while i held dream’s sword, saying that he missed the younger me, the innocent sapnap. i had shook my head, placing the sword back on its mantlepiece, saying i was late for training.

and i had left with my hood up and my head down, working straight and fast. no wandering, no dreaming. straight forward.

karl had found his place in our family too. we were close, and he always had my back. never asked about dream, comforted me alone - and stayed quiet while george and i fought. he seemed grateful to just have a roof over his head - but george always made sure that he felt comfortable.

“sapnap will come around. he’s just feeling a little down.” a little down? 

my depression, or whatever it was - was caused by the haunting memories of dreams death, and the lack of closure i had recieved. i never really understood that dream was good - it was more a nagging sense that something wasnt right. i still needed answers. why were they travelling seperately? how did dream fall? why did george run from dream?

why did i still see dream everywhere?

everywhere i looked, i saw him. standing, sitting, watching me with narrowed eyes. he was alluring, and beckoning - and he begged me to find him. and i would shake my head everytime, and george would frown at me, taking my face in his hands and tutting.

“maybe we should get your eyes checked.” my eyes were fine, they always were. maybe george knew what i was seeing - i knew karl did. he had held me one night when i had snuck into his bed one night, and i had told him about the nightmares that haunted me every night. it was either myself falling into the mirror pond, or falling down a deep ravine like dream. there was a rotation between each but i was always falling. karl had rubbed my back, wiped my tears softly and told me that dream would watch over me. and watch over me he did, but it was excessive. 

id stare at these images of dream that my brain was projecting into the real world, and they’d be so real that i felt as if i could reach out and touch him. he spoke jn phrases, words he had said in the past. his body was so engraved in my mind that i had no trouble recreating his image in my mind, but his voice seemed to change with each day that passed from that day in strandec. but he was my dream, and his presence - whether image or in the wind soothed me well.

it wasnt until i had truly understood the effects of my hallucinations until i was training at the academy. it was a freezing day anyways, and my fingers felt just as numb under my woolen gloves as they did in the riff that day. i had drawn my sword to practice on a dummy, but halfway through my swing practice - the dummy had changed in my mind to be the exact image of dream that i was striking. i had frozen, staring at the dummy before stepping away shakily and violently throwing up in a bucket beside the court yard.

george took me home early that day.

he warmed me up by the fire, offering me herbal tea - and halfway through my second cup of persimmon tea - i had blurted my deepest secret to him.

george had tensed, hair falling over his eyes slowly before he turned back to me slowly.

“how long has this been happening?”

“since night one.” he had sighed shakily, and we never spoke of it again.

back in my room, i manage to open my eyes slows onto to once again see the memory of dream lounging in george’s reading armchair near my side of the bed. i tense, pull the covers up to my nose slowly and the figure of dream runs his hand through messy golden locks, and i feel myself slip deeper and deeper under the covers. i should wake up george, i whisper to myself but my hand stops just above his shoulder and i watch his peacful face while he sleeps.

george is always stressing. he never stop. from the first step down the stairs to me walking home across the horizon, he worries for me and for karl. karl and georget along like a house on fire because of it, but i just wanted him to be happy, to be calm.

like when dream was around.

now, george is always wearing a frown. his lips are raw from biting them, and his forehead is always creased. when he’s asleep, its the first time he seems peaceful and calm.

so i dont wake him.

instead my gaze returns back to the image of dream, lounging in the armchair, gazing at me but also through me. i frown, and something flickers in his mind and he gets up from his chair slowly. i pull myself underneath the covers once again, and i feel a hand knot in my messy locks. 

“sapnap.” dream calls my name and my throat dries up, heart knotting itself over and over, and i blink away my tears fast. 

“sapnap, love, come find me.” he looks at me, and i pull the covers down from my face slowly. with a finger, he lifts my chin up slightly and i bat away my tears fast once again.

“ill be waiting.”

and then he’s gone.


	2. chapter two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> george surprises sapnap with a holiday, and sapnap is confused as to why

breakfast this morning consisted of pomegranate porridge and peeled figs. karl doused his bowl in wild honey at the dinner table, while i nursed my bowl outside on little porch area. the ground was soaked due to last nights storm, but the air was cool - which made it ideal to sit out in. george had run off to do some errands before taking me up to the academy - so i used my time to read dream’s novel that george had also given me for my birthday.

the book was called forestry greens and apparently was very popular across the kingdom. it was a fantasy story, originally written in runes, about a kid who finds a book that writes itself, and the author is on a journey to kill a huge dragon. so the kid that found the book, follows the authors directions and meets up with him to defeat the dragon. its a good story, ill admit - a little short in places, and the translation isnt always right - but its a happy story, and the two heroes fall in love when they meet. it was the first time id ever seen a gay romance in a book - ever. i guess thats why dream had read it.

i manage to finish my bowl off in record speed, and i dump the bowl in the hot water bubbling in the stove. karl looks up from his painting, offering me a smile and i offer one back.

“heading off?”

“waiting for george.”

“is he out shopping?”

“we ran out of eggs.”

“we should get some chickens.” i smile at the idea.

“you’d be damn good at raising them too.” he smiles and rolls his eyes, and i wash my hands in the soapy water. there is a silence between us, and karl seems to be trying to tell me something - but restraining himself.

“karl?”

“mm?”

“whats wrong?” he tenses slightly, and looks at me.

“george didnt tell you?”

“about what?”

karl hesitates, before shaking his head.

“nothing.” i roll my eyes softly, and wipe my hands on the tea towel next to the sink, before sulking off upstairs to get changed. stripping my overshirt and socks - another breast of cold air escapes inside my window and i freeze over my shirts, holding the cotton between shaky hands.

“dream?” i call again.

there is silence.

“just me.” george whispers softly, and i let out a soft sigh - pulling on another shirt. george runs a hand over my shoulder softly before embracing me, and i hug him back slowly. its warm, and nice. and i feel somewhat safe.

“you called for dream?”

“i always check.”

“just in case?”

“just in case.” george sighs into my shoulder softly, and tucks a hand in my hair slowly. i huff, and pull away.

“are we going?” george pauses.

“george?” he doesnt like me using his name. he misses me calling him ‘georgie’, but it feels wrong to do so. 

“i was thinking - maybe we could do something..”

“something?”

“different.”

“different?” he hands me a letter.

“i got you a month off at the academy.”

“a month? why?” george looks pressed again, and im starting to get scared

“george?”

“we’re going to stay with bad for a while.”

“bad?”

“yes. he wants to see you.”

“see me? why?” 

“your birthday.” a well fabricated lie, and i frown. he kisses my shoulder and turns to leave.

“go back to bed for a few hours. we leave tomorrow.” and he disappears down the stairs. 

i was lost, extremely lost. why were we randomly going to see bad? my birthday was months ago, and ive seen bad since then. sure - id love to see bad but i need to train. and the academy would be pissed that i took a month off. slowly, i return my gaze back to my dirty laundry and i quickly bundle my washing in my arms, before meeting the eyes of him.

dream.

once again, he’s lazing in the arm chair, head on his hand and gazing out the window. i pause, dropping my laundry into the hamper - holding myself back from crawling into his arms. he meets my gaze, amused that im still surprised that he shows up, and begins to talk.

“you know - a month away from here, you could look for me.” i try not to respond to his questions, his requests. i know he isnt real, and that responding would only fuel my imagination more. he frowns at my silence and rises from his chair.

“what? dont you want me home?”

_i do_

i whisper, to myself, not to him - but he catches it anyways.

“so run sapnap. run like i told you to do all those months ago.”

_run sapnap, run. to where?_

i flinch at the sudden memory, and he is once again amused by my lack of remembrance.

“bring me home. take me home.”

_where are you?_

i call to him and the memory flickers, aa if it is shocked by the sudden response. it frowns at me, and goes to say something. but chokes on its words.

and i freeze

dream.

_find me._

and then he’s gone.

im left alone in our bedroom, staring at the open window and armchair. its dead cold, as if nobody had been sitting there. its as if he didnt exist, as if he was never on my mind. i huff softly, running my hands through messy curls and begin to fret over the idea of travel.

travel scared me. i hadnt travelled since returning from hamley’s echo with george and karl. and even then, i had blacked out and missed half of the journey. hypothermia had wrecked my ability to distinguish time and place - and all i managed to do was curl into karl’s side, pull the hot water bottle close to my stomach and mewl dream’s name out of chapped lips. george had shushed me, saying that it wasnt time to cry - but my grief was inevitable - and when it hit, it hit hard.

my grief had turned into a metaphorical image of dream, who watched my every step. i felt unsettled with his death, and yearned to figure out how he had died. falling from that high didnt seem like a dream death - it was unlawful, and unsettling. and not how dream should go. if dream were to die, he’d die on the battle field, or in someone's arms at least. so i was unsatisfied, and in grief. so both together had morphed into this nightmare of green eyes and messy hair. and i had signed myself up for the impacts. 

shaking my head, i drew my pack from under the bed and began shoving random items of clothing inside. overshirts, undershirts, pants - socks. it wasnt a long ride, but it was tedious. and it drove me mad. 

from outside the bedroom door, i felt the piercing gaze of george who had seen my whole ordeal. he had seen the whole conversation shared with my memory of dream, but yet said no words.

it wasnt his territory to tread into anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooo - we are getting into the good stuff. i am v excited about this sequel! also, the book that sapnap mentions - or 'a mage's word', is an actual book im writing. once im finished here, i may post that actual book on my account - but it wont be fanfiction, so i doubt it will attract attention
> 
> comments appreciated!! shout out to my frequents xx 
> 
> ig: vwrages


	3. chapter three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the trio makes it to rhavelle, and sapnap realises the extent of george's plan

the journey to rhavelle by horseback was short. we took the fields route, galloping across open  plains dotted with wild daises. karl looked out over the view, holding a significantly smaller pack, and george lead the group - a few metres ahead. in the lazy galloping that occurred, i let my mind wander away from my horse and my burning calves - to the prospect of dream returning, if i did leave to find him.

if i went back to the ukalzet trail, did some proper study into what was really in the ravine - then maybe i could find something down there. a hint as to what really happened to dream. over the horizon, a storm settled over the mountains - and i swallowed hard, pulling the hood of my cloak over my face. the other two followed suit, and i braced myself for the cold of the storm. 

when the rain fell, george pushed harder. he seemed determined to make it to rhavelle before nightfall, but i didnt see the rush. i made a comment about sheltering as the brute of the storm hit, and george shook his head hard - saying that we needed to get to rhavelle, and fast. karl shot me an anxious look, and i shrugged back - hair soaked to my face. 

we ended up making it to rhavelle by night - and george whisked me inside bad’s house with such force that i almost slipped on bad’s floorboards. karl and i were babied by bad, as usual. hot baths, vegetable soup and grain bread, and in bed by nine pm. legs tangled together and eyes wide open, i stare at the ceiling as karl snores peacefully beside me. sleep had become a fear to me, but i forced myself to anyways because i couldnt risk being kicked from the academy.

then what would dream think?

he’d shake his head - frowning, and call me a disappointment. id cry for his forgiveness and he’d scoff, and leave me alone on the floor. id be on my knees - begging for him to say something - anything.

“tell me you hate me dream - tell me im the worst. tell me you wish you’d never met me in that tiny town outside the kingdom on my fifteenth birthday.” 

and he’d laugh at me - and shake his head.

“oh baby - you were never anything to me.”

dream’s dream (corny as the phrase suggests), was for us to train together. it was meant to be us walking every day down the kingdom trail - us having lunch at the bakery together, us polishing and talking about our adventures. but now it was me. i walked the trail alone, i ate bread at the bakery alone, and i polished and wished for adventure alone.

and it sucks.

the bed creaks slightly, awakening me from my thoughts - and karl shuffles slightly. blearily, i blink away the sleep in my eyes - only to hear to quiet whispers of a conversation downstairs. i sit up quietly, quilt dropping to my waist - and slowly the words of the conversation begin to make sense.

“i dont think he’s okay.”

“dream has been gone for a year now.”

“why is this happening to him?”

“he’s hearing voices.”

“keeping him away from home.”

“dispose of all memories.”

“clear his head.”

the words are strained, and whoever is whispering them seems to be genuinely upset. it almost sounds like blubbering, but i cant possibly tell. i stumble out of bed, watching for those floorboards that creak - and karl tosses slightly - mumbling incoherent phrases underneath the sheets.

i nudge the door with my foot slightly, and peer out slowly down the old stairs. both george and bad are sitting in front of the fire, faces hardened in thought - and lips sealed. george seems to be mulling over a cup of tea, and bad is messing about with a book silently. my eyebrows crease, and i step out onto the flat at the top of the stairs, arms hanging over the railing.

“he’ll be safe here.” bad whispers, and the words sit uncomfortably in the air. george shifts, eyes returning to his cup of tea - before letting out a soft sigh.

“i know he will.” were they talking about karl? why would bad want karl to stay with him? maybe karl was leaving george and i, and this was his way of saying goodbye. karl leaving would hurt, hurt alot. he was like a brother to me, and we had bonded over such a short period of time. 

“will you take him to the local academy?”

_ the local academy. _

why would karl go-

oh.

_ oh. _

the voices, memories, stay away from home.

_ they were leaving me here. _

i suddenly felt ill, very ill. like my stomach was trying to claw its way out through my throat. stumbling back, the floorboards creak underneath my weight and i freeze as two pairs of hawk eyes shoot up at me.

“sapnap.” george calls, but im already gone.

“i-its okay.” i close the door slowly, keeping my sobs tight in my throat. crawling back under the sheets, i hear the door creak open and george pace in quietly.

“sapnap.” he whispers. i ignore him.

“sap please.”

“go away.” i hiss softly, my voice quivering and george dips his hand up under my shirt, scratching my lower back softly. “why do you want me gone?” i sob softly.

“i want you to get better sap. relying on dream’s memory isnt healthy, and bad is going to help you.”

“help me how? removing all my memories of him?” i cry softly, trying not to wake karl. george huffs and shakes his head.

“its not like that.”

“then what is it?”

george hesitates, biting his lower lip between his teeth and my sobs get louder slowly. he shushes me with a finger on my lips.

“karl is sleeping.”

“fuck you george.” i whisper with bite and he tenses. i bury my face under the pillow, sobs filling my lungs and george raises from the floor.

“karl and i are heading home tomorrow. bad is going to help you get over dream. when youre ready you can come home.”

and the door clicks shut.

my nightmares that night were somewhat extravagant. we’re in a circus, and dream’s the ringmaster - and he’s wearing a coat of orange and pink, laced with gold. he spins his baton and tips his hat to the faceless crowd, who cheers at dream’s eratic movement. suddenly, dream is pointing his baton at me and im shoved into the spotlight, dressed in red and gold.

and the crowd begins to boo.

and dream drops his persona fast, and looks down at me from his platform.

_“you disgust me.”_ he spits, before swinging off stage behind the bleachers - and the crowds cheers become louder and more overbearing.

amidst the crowd, george stares at me under his goggles - and smirks at my humiliation. slowly, he raises from his seat with a tomato in hand and throws it straight by my head. it whizzes past - and i freeze, before a flurry of tomatoes follow suit and im whisked off stage back into the darkness of the bleachers.

and dream’s laugh haunts me until i wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry sapnap, you're on your own again bud :( but things will get better!!
> 
> comments appreciated! love u all xx


	4. chapter four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sapnap is once again alone with his thoughts, and the idea of running away soothes him well

karl and george are already gone when i wake up. slowly, i make my way downstairs - hugging my arms across my chest, only to see that bad and skeppy are already awake - working vigorously in the garden. i hadnt seen skeppy last night, realising that he was probably out hunting or out cold by the time we got in last night. but when he saw me standing in the doorway, he offered me a welcoming smile before returning to his peonies. i stiffen slightly, rolling back on my heels and bad turns his gaze back to me, grinning.

“good morning.”

“morning.”

“sleep well.”

“when i did, yes. totally forgot that george and karl left me here.” i hiss bitterly, and turn on my foot, stalking into the kitchen to brew some tea. bad huffs softly from the garden, and stalks in after me.

“theyre trying to help.”

“theyre shipping me off.”

“theyre worried.”

“im fine.”

“seeing dream everywhere you go, and talking to him isnt normal sapnap.”

“i thought you believed in ghosts.” 

“sapnap stop.” i huff again, lighting the fire underneath the pot. it flickers before lighting, and i stare at the flames, pretending like bad wasnt glaring at my back.

“we’re going for a walk soon, and youre going to tell me everything. about dream, about the riff, about the voices, the hallucinations.”

“too real to be hallucinations.” i add and he sighs, turning away.

“theres bread on the counter, and butternut pumpkin spread. help yourself.” and he walks back outside again. frowning, i get up from lighting the fire and steal a slice of bread from the counter, when a familiar gaze returns to my body. and he’s back in my sight.

“they left you. why’d they do that?”

_ because of you _

“because of me?”

_ stop haunting me _

“if you keep this up id almost think you - you dont want me back. is that what you want?”

_ george thinks im insane. so does karl and bad _

“they dont get us.”

_ what is there to get. _

“that you havent given up on me. you have hope.”

i run the knife down over the bread, spreading the pumpkin slowly before taking a bite. he watches me carefully as i hold the bread between my teeth and unscrew the bottle of tea leaves.

_ if i ignore you, will you leave? _

“you are unsettled by my death.”

_ yes. because i never got to say goodbye. not even i love you _

“youre still so young.”

_ so naive. _

“my sapnap. come find me.”

_ im getting sick of that quote. _

and when i look up from the tea leaves, dream is gone again. and im alone in the kitchen once more.

hours later, bad whisks us away out the garden and down through the town. i look around slowly, and bad whistles while he walks - probably picking it up from skeppy. i tuck my hands in under my overshirt and i sigh, bad shooting a look over his shoulder.

“dont get too comfortable. we’re going to be walking for a while.” i shake my head in disbelief, before looking away and bad just offers a sigh.

“dont be difficult.”

“you wouldnt know.”

“im trying to help you.”

“i dont need a therapist.” bad stops, and turns to me.

“then what do you need?”

i pause.

“i want closure. i want to know why he died, how it actually happened, what he was thinking before he died.” bad is quiet as we walk out of town, and towards the local apple orchard.

“grief is one of those things where you have to learn to accept it before it can pass. if you live in denial, then grief lingers longer.”

“so you want me just to forget it. say goodbye to the love of my life, to my best friend, my older brother - and pretend its never happened.”

“its been a year sapnap.”

“so?! that doesnt mean anything. doesnt mean anything.”

“youre allowed to be sad.” bad starts as we enter the field lined with apples. “but coping through seeing him everyday isnt healthy.”

“its not like i want to see him. he just, shows up.”

“what does he say to you?”

i pause again.

“he tells me to come find him.” bad’s walking pace slows, and he turns to me, frowning.

“write your whole conversation down next time. i want to see what he says.” bad frowns before turning on his heel and setting off down the field. i hesitate after him, before jogging slowly.

“why?”

“why what?”

“why do i need to record it on paper?”

“because - sapnap, i have hope. i hope that this hallucination or ghost of dream or whatever is trying to tell you to find him cause dream is somehow alive. i dont want to believe that youre losing your mind.”

“losing my mind?” i scoff.

“thats what george thinks.” my sadness in my bones suddenly turned to burning rage, and i frowned at the ground as we walk.

“of course george thinks that.”

“he’s trying to help.”

“he never asks anything!”

“he’s scared to hurt you more. same with karl. we have to walk on eggshells around you sapnap!” the fire inside my bones causes me to instantly turn on the breaks, on turn fast on my foot, stalking out towards the gates again. its seconds later before bad realises ive left.

“sapnap - sapnap wait!”

“im not losing my fucking mind!” i yell back, anger boiling in my gut - before dashing back into the town the way i came. my feet burn in my boots, but i have one thing on my mind by the time i reach the house.

_ ill find dream myself _

i take two stairs at a time - opening the bedroom door and shoving a door under the lock as i close it, so bad cant follow me in. pulling open my pack, i repack everything once again before ditching my hiking boots for my riding boots, buckling the sides up.

“sapnap. sapnap! let me in!”

“leave me alone!”

“what are you doing?”

“crying my eyes out - now leave me alone!” a lie, but bad didnt seem to budge. he pulls on the handle again as i tied the top of my pack shut. with my extra hand, i slide open the window quietly and look down at the jump below. straight into the mulberry bush would be my best option - but it would hurt like ass. i drop my back down slowly, hoping it will ease my fall before skeppy rounds the corner and he meets my gaze. i freeze, hands gripped on the window sil, and he immediately knows what im up to. 

but yet he doesnt snitch.

he offers me a fake salute before calling to bad ‘i just saw him down here past the kitchen!” and leaving towards the front of the house. bad, who was obviously confused as to how i made it to the kitchen when i was locked in my room - rushes downstairs, and i take my chance to slip down into the bush, landing on my pack. grabbing it and reslinging the weight over my shoulders, i make a dash down to the stables - looking for my horse, only to realise that george and karl had taken my horse back - just for this reason.

_ fuck _

“sapnap?!”

_ double fuck _

i pull up my cloak hood as the afternoon storm sets it - and in the distance i see dream calling my name in the rain.

“run, sapnap, run!”

_ to where? _

“to me! where does your heart take you!”

_ back to you _

so i run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we go here we go yes run sapnap RUN he's gonna get his boy back!!!! ahh - my holidays are two days away so i may start double updating every two days or so when i have time to bulk right. i usually make it so that i always have an extra chapter typed before i post the next chapter so that im ahead and always on time with uploading. i have three exams left and then im done for the year, phew !
> 
> comments appreciated! i read them all and they make my day! you guys also influence the path of the story too! so keep the predictions coming!
> 
> ig: vwrages


	5. chapter five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> george receives an unexpected letter from bad

a letter arrives. trimmed in gold and sealed hastily with red wax. the door knock is hastily banged three times, and the post boy drops the letter on the doorstep, turning on his heel and leaving back towards the main travel route. karl, somewhat in a sleepy haze, opens the door and spots the letter on the welcome mat. with a cat like movement, he stretched upwards - shirt riding upwards slightly, before picking up the letter from the floor. the fast and messy cursive reads george’s name - so karl shrugs, dropping the letter back on the kitchen counter. shaking his hair out, karl lights the fire on the stove top - before blowing out the match, and placing the kettle on top of the stove.

upstairs, george is awake, but unmoving. the bed is cold and he’s unsettled. its been a year since dream had disappeared, and those nights he slept alone without either dream or sapnap scarred him deeply. the darkness of night, the cold of the wind. no soft comforting breaths, whiny murmurs within slumber - no skewed limbs, poking into his ribs. he was truly and utterly alone.

and that scared him.

sure, he had karl. but karl was closer to sapnap then he was george. karl didnt speak much, or do anything wild. he was the picture perfect child - the complete opposite of sapnap, and george guessed that's how they got on so well together. rolling over, george instinctively searches the bed for sapnaps warmth - and then remembers, and swallows the guilt that ties his throat in notes. the look when he had stumbled in on their conversation had made george want to reconsider. eyes wide, teary look. he hadn't been sleeping well - so he looked a sickly pale too. he felt as if dream’s eyes were burning into his back as sapnap’s raw and timid voice mumbled out a weak:

‘fuck you george’

and all george could do, like the coward he was - was run.

and run he did.

karl and george left earlier than expected - george snuck in, shook karl awake and kissed sapnap’s forehead. for the first time in several months - he seemed to be out cold. they made their way downstairs, thanking bad for his hospitality, and for allowing to sapnap to stay. bad shrugged - offering them a smile.

“i’m sure he wont be a problem.”

and they left, before george could look back. guilt weighed heavily on their shoulders, but george urged forwards. he needed to escape sapnap’s presence, and give himself back to himself - not to others. it was selfish, but he knew his decision was for the best. sapnap was coping through his grief by forcing his mind to replay memories of him. it was unhealthy, and it scared george sick when sapnap would aimlessly leave the house at dawn and return late at night. he was always fine - much to george’s hope, but always a little quieter then the day before. it was only time until george knew sapnap wouldn’t speak again - so he knew bad would have an answer.

he wrote to bad on the day of sapnap’s seventeenth birthday, and got a letter back the next day. gold trimmed, and stamped with wax - a formality that bad had always used. bad assured george that he could help sapnap through his grief - by easing him away from his reliance on memories. george never questioned as to how - or why, because he had trusted bad. bad was smart, reliable, capable - mature. if anyone could parent sapnap through his trauma, it would be him.

a knock at the door sounds, and george moves his eyes from the roof slowly. karl enters.

“did i wake you?”

“nah. thinking.”

“want tea?”

“wouldn’t mind it.”

“letter for you came in.”

“huh.” a letter. he hadn’t been expecting anything. slowly, he lifted himself up in bed - as karl presented the letter to him. gold entailed, wax seal.

a letter from bad.

“it can wait. probably bad just asking for us to send something up that sap forgot.” george tosses the letter onto his bedside table, and stretches up, as karl looks around anxiously. he is bouncing on the balls of his feet, fiddling with his nails and glancing around quietly. george lifts an eyebrow at him.

“what’s up?” george asks, and karl looks at him - shrugging.

“guess i miss him a little.” karl admits, before shaking his head and straightening his posture. “ill finish the tea.” and he rushes back out the door before george can interrogate him more. george sighs, rubbing his face in calloused palms before stumbling out of bed, cotton sheets pooling at the end of the bed. it seems surreal almost - light flutters down through the windows, and a small draft carries itself through the hairline crack in the stained glass window pane - and george breathes deeply. he urged himself, to try and be strong. to put on his mask and step out into the darkness of today - but he feels lost in his step. maybe it was the lack of both of his partners once more, or maybe it was because the scrape down the back of his calf from the ride home burnt like hell - but he steps anyways.

because thats what dream would’ve wanted him to do. 

the day drags - much to everyone’s dismay. the rain that seemed to well overnight, burns up in the heat of summer that clings to everything it touches. it lurks beneath fingers, behind ears - in weary eyes and mugs of tea. by midday, they’re both soaked with sweat - and george leaves his garden for the day to work inside. usually, midday would be the perfect time for a swim down at the river. or a picnic in the wild blueberry fields on the east side of the track. but karl said he had to work in town, and sapnap was gone. so george sat alone in the sitting room, grapefruit lemonade dripping condensation onto the pine table - and heat swelling in the floorboards. he was irritated, and longed for conversation. but the lack of people made his stomach quench, and his lemonade turn salty. and george could not sit for any longer.

so he decides to clean.

cleaning wasn’t a favourite of george’s. it felt like too much of a chore, and it hurt his head. herbalism had taught him that coarse salt, fermented water and orange peels were wonders in the world of cleaning - but he never cared to try them out. sapnap and karl usually rotated cleaning - sapnap because he was the youngest, and karl liked to help out - but george usually stayed out of it, and that was fine.

so george makes his way upstairs to their bedroom - and stripped the bed of its sheets - soaking them in a hot tub of goat milk and boiling water. maybe it was cleaning - or maybe it was washing the sense of sapnap which had buried itself deep inside his bones. when george returns from the pot of water downstairs - the letter, which had previously been tucked under the vase of his bedside table - had fluttered to the floor. slowly, george dusts his hands off - and picks up the letter, flipping it over. the writing was hasty, and the seal was only half melted, and george frowns.

this was very unlike bad.

and when he opens the envelope, peeling the wax away from the paper, four words are scrawled on the piece of loose paper. george frowns, before reading them over - and thats when george begins to feel very, very ill.

_ ‘sapnap gone. come quick.’ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooo baby yes angst yes angst - this is getting very good!! new character coming up soon too!! i am very excited to keep this story going :)
> 
> comment gang! i hope you all are doing well :) go drink some water and get some fresh air!! you deserve it
> 
> ig: vwrages (im lonely please)


	6. chapter six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sapnap meets a mysterious somebody on the ukalzet trail

rain soaks every inch of clothing on my body, and buries itself deep within my bones. i am cold, and wet - and the rain pelts harder. it clings to the trees, dripping down off leaves and onto my eyelashes - which i blink away fast. i wrap my arms around my torso slowly, feebly attempting to retain any heat. thunder crashes louder ahead - and suddenly my weak attempt at a greentop shelter seems pitiful. my cloak provides nothing against the downpour, and my face is pressed in the mud slate of the mountain side.

everything reminds me of the riff - and i want to cry. i want to scream. but i dont.

i squeeze my eyes shut harder as thunder howls louder, and tentatively raise my hands to my ears, knees curling to my chest. in the distance, water thrashes loudly - and i know the river will flood its banks if i dont move.

so i force myself to.

my knees shake as i climb to my feet, and i collect my pack from the ground. ironically, in times of crisis, the memory of dream that haunts me has seemed to go radio silent - and the darkness that i am surrounded by seems more daunting than ever before. slinging my pack back over my shoulders, i push my hair out of my face again - before attempting to climb the mud slope to the top of the hill again.

i have to be close to little haven - but i came down straight in the middle of the trail - meaning i had to climb up hills to get to the campsite. dream’s grave was a mile or so outside little haven - on his own little valley that i had nicknamed ‘mossland falls’, for the thick moss that lurched from tree to tree. my plan was to get an inn for a night with my saved coins before going down into the ravine to investigate. if i found any evidence of whatever happened, i’d stay longer - somehow. if not - well.

i never really though that far.

going back to george made me angry, and sad. i didnt want to see george right now, not even karl. it became clear to me that karl had known of george’s plan - henceforth his humming and harring in the sitting room a few days ago. and i couldnt go back to bad either - he’d rip me to shreds. so maybe id go back to academy, and stay there. get a job and earn enough to rent a room. i dont need people.

i dont need anyone.

besides him.

if i found something - whatever it may be, and somehow i found him. then i’d be okay. maybe i’d start talking more - to george. maybe i’d be happy. maybe i’d be childish and immature and laugh at butterflies and chase after beetles. it was weird to consider falling back into these behaviours - but the reason why i had done them before was because i was happy, and i was free.

but now my mind was chained to lost memories and sorrows of yesterday.

i slip a little on my climb upwards, which causes me to stumble backwards. the slope is slippery causing me to lose my footing, and i slip only to be caught by something.

more like someone.

i dig my boots into the mud, before spinning quickly only to be met with a startling pair of muddy brown eyes, with startling dark lashes. i stumble back again, only to realise that it is infact a person that im staring at - who’s at least a foot taller than me, and a few years older. he smiles.

“watch your stepping here. bad conditions in the wet.” he whispers, and i frown over the sound of thunder.

“pardon?”

“i said - watch your step.” he whispers again.

“why are we whispering?” 

he rolls his eyes.

“this is just my voice, asshole. my name’s wilbur. wilbur soot. how do you do?”   
  


“im wet and cold - so just dandy, mr soot, dandy.” 

“may i ask why a boy of merely fifteen-.”

“im seventeen.”

he looks me up and down, and shakes his head.

“my mistake. as i was saying - why would i boy of your age be on the ukalzet trail at exactly 3:12am on a tuesday night in the middle of a torrential downpour?”

“i should be asking you that - wilbur soot.”

“the spirits brought me to you.”

“spirits?”

he ignores my question.

“i have a spare room at my inn. you should stay the night.”

“how do i know youre not trying to lure me?”

he presents his hand, which adorns a gold band on his ring finger.

“married?”

“was.”

“did she leave?”

“no. i died.”

and it becomes apparent to me that the man in front of me was in fact, a ghost - or whatever spiritual figure dream was too. i frown.

“you’re dead.”

“i just said that.”

“how’d you die?”

“i dont remember.” strange. a ghost that doesnt even remember his own past? lightning cracks across the sky - sending flashes of yellow deep within the black of night.

“you’ll freeze out here if you stay any longer. you can sleep at mine and ill escort you to wherever you want to go. my treat.”

i certainly didnt want to stay out in the storm any longer, and i was soaking wet and my eyes were drooping. but did i want to stay with wilbur soot, the ghost of a man who didnt remember his past, but adorned a gold wedding ring and only spoke in whispers? he was obviously a mage - and i had been lucky enough to experience only lawful mages. what if he was trying to hurt me? i weighed my pros and cons.

“fine, ghostbur. i trust you.”

“ghostbur - huh. i like it.” he whispers and i smile.

-

wilbur turns out to be this single most weirdest but kindest mage i had ever met. once we arrived at his small inn, he treated me to a full course dinner - and use of his hot water bath. hot water. i was bashful at the offer - but as soon as i dropped into the water, i was in heaven. 

wilbur is weird. he plays guitar, and banjo. and he only wears a yellow overshirt and black pantalons. he has eight apparently, eight yellow overshirts. he also cant yell, or talk at a normal voice level - so i always have to strain my ears to hear him talk. his wife was a girl named sally, who worked on the docks. he doesnt remember much about sally, but he remembered waiting for her to come back from her explorations aboard a local trawler. and when she did return, she left him with a child - before disappearing completely.

“where is he now?”   
  


“he left me - thats all i remember his name. went and joined the academy and was sent off. his name is fundy.”

“i havent heard his name.”

“he’d be older than you now anyways - i think.”

the guest room is cozy - bed tucked under a stacked bookshelf, and fireplace flickering in the corner. the smell of dried sage and rosemary replaces the smell of goat milk that reminded me of george, and i spend my limited time there reading and lazing around while wilbur plays lazily on his guitar. i had told wilbur that i would only stay overnight, but i ended up staying until the afternoon, which was now. leaving seems like such a foreign thing, and i felt at home staying with wilbur. but he seems to have unfinished business, and i dont want to interrupt.

we leave for little haven as sunset creeps onto the horizon. splashes of ochre, clay and apricot paint the sky as we climb up another steep pathway, myself gripping to roots that hung from the hill wall. as we walked home yesterday, i had explained the memory of dream - and how i was haunted by his memory. he said that it was quite possible that dream was a ghost, or i was slightly insane. either way, he asked if i would return to stay again if i succeeded in my plan. i said yes. 

“what will you do if you find him? will asks, looking over his shoulder at me. i shrug.

“see what he says. i miss him.” its true, i did miss him. his image hadn’t shown up for two days now, and i felt loneliness creep back into my skin. sure, will was lovely, but i missed dream. alot. wilbur stops as we reach the top of the final hill and turns to me.

“you good from here?” i look out and see campfires down the hill.

“yeah. yeah - thankyou again.”

“Im gonna miss you, kid.” i smile.

“ill miss you too, ghostbur.” he smiles and turns on his foot before disappearing into thin air. and i am left one again with an overwhelming loneliness that haunts me, by the loss of  _ a mage’s whisper. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHH IM SO SORRY I DIDNT UPDATE YESTERDAY!! i try to always be ahead in my writing, meaning that i have another chapter completed before posting the next - so i had to wait for that one to be finished!! but !! big boy wilbur soot!! he’s here :)) i hope you all are okay with the extra characters coming it - i didnt want them to take much away from the main relationships and concepts but so far so good!
> 
> comments and kudos appreciated!! i love you all! also a huge beautiful amazing fantastic shout out to the amazing kbonk_15 who did an amazing drawing of our boy dream!! GO FOLLOW THEM RN RN!!
> 
> ALSO YES SNEAKY TITLE MENTION YOU KNOW IM A SUCKER FOR THESE!!


	7. chapter seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the boys begin their journey to bring sapnap home - but meet someone on the trail, much like sapnap

they ride at dawn, cloaks soaked from the pouring rain - and mud covering inches of bare skin. bads face is set as stone, lips straight and brow furrowed, while skeppy and karl hang behind - galloping at a steady pace. karl knows that even in his weakness, sapnap is fast - lean, and quick to think. he won’t let anything get between him and his goal. so he stays behind, and lets bad and george take the lead. speaking of george, he leads the small group - head bowed against the wind, and shirt fluttering against his pale skin. the storms of the afternoon have set in - and skeppy wishes that he had stayed behind.

he let sapnap run. he knew the kid was more than capable of taking care of himself. sure, he was a little shaky in his stance sometimes - but he could take on an arm full of beldams in a single go. he wouldn't tell bad that he had seen sapnap tumble from his window, stumbling out of the bush and jumping the white picket fence. he knew what sapnap was dealing with was hard - and george and bad’s reasoning was just stupid. he loved bad - but the kid didnt need counselling. he needed closure. so skeppy let him run. 

as the rain seemed to calm off to a weaker downpour, george pulled up in the mud as the reached the end of the trail they would have to backtrack. following suit, bad swung around on his horse - pushing his fringe from his eyes. karl and skeppy share a look as they slowly pull up, holding an arm over their foreheads to block the rain from their eyes.

“we need to split.” george starts

“ill go with skeppy to the top of the trail and work our way down. karl and george can continue up this way.”

“sounds good to me.” george finishes - without letting karl or skeppy speak. he fixes his saddle, before sending a look to karl - who drops his arm, and presses his calves into the horses sides softly. they set off into an even trot, georges face conflicted and twisted - and karl wishes to ask whats going through the older boys head. lightning crashes louder, and karl squeezes his eyes shut. somehow, karl feels like if sapnap could control the weather using his feelings - it would storm everyday.

“im going to throttle him when i see him.” george curses softly, and karl shrugs awkwardly in his saddle - looking away. sure, he loved george, but he always felt as if sapnap received the blunt end of the stick when things didnt go george’s way. dirty dishes? sapnap is lazy. mud tracks? sapnap is careless. roof leak? sapnap broke the roof with his sword practice. karl even thought that george would blame dream’s death on  
sapnap at the next given chance. but he always pushed that aside. george wasnt that cold.

was he?

he made karl feel welcome - bought him paints and little jars of seeds for the garden. he would buy him new twine brushes for his horses, and a new saddle when he found one on his trips. karl was in debt to george - but he also wished that george would reach out, hug him - maybe just talk about him for a change. he’d love sapnap until the end of time - but he couldnt stand the hours he’d sit in the old rocking chair while george cursed out sapnap’s faults. as the sun creeps up behind the clouds, george slows down before slowly descending down one of the hill face’s that would take him onto the track. karl watches him quietly, face twisting before pulling his reigns tighter and descending as george did.

further up the track sits wilbur soot, strumming lazily on his guitar. when the clicking of horse shoes comes from a distance, wilbur soot already knows who they are. he twangs his chords again, head resting back against a tall pine. george slows down after a while, noticing the yellow overshirt before stopping completely, dropping his cloak hood.

“who goes there?” he calls, wilbur soot doesnt move. george huffs softly, and drops from his horse - boots landing in the pooling mud of the trail.

“who goes there?” george calls again, and wilbur soot stops playing his chords. slowly he lifts his head from the tree, and turns to face the cold eyes of george - he rocks anxiously on his feet. slowly, he moves his gaze to meet karl’s, who seems to fear wilbur soot even though they never spoke. slowly, wilbur soot puts down his guitar and rises to his feet, causing george to take first position and draw his sword fast.

“you can stab me. try it.” wilbur soot whispers, and george frowns at the whisperings, taking a step back. wilbur meets the step with one forward.

“i know where your lover went. although, i wouldnt call you two.. lovers, would you?” george swings and wilbur soot dodges.

“i lead him back to little haven, safely. that kid has alot of fucking issues that you are unwilling to take on.” another swing, wilbur soot ducks.

“you dont know anything!” george cries, anger bubbling in his gut - and karl clampers from his horse, gripping george’s arm tight. “you dont know anything about sapnap and i.”

wilbur soot just smiles.

“you blame sapnap for dream’s death.” horror strikes george right in his face, and george laughs - shaking his head in disbelief. wilbur soot steps again.

“if sapnap hadn’t been so foolish, he wouldn’t have fell right? and then you two wouldnt have to had go to hamley’s echo and rescue him? but - dream died trying to get to him before you did and he died.” george breathes hard, grip going white around the handle of his sword.

“isnt that your logic?”

george plunges to the sword straight through wilbur soot’s stomach, and wilbur soot laughs - as it goes straight through him.

“a ghost mage..” karl whispers, and wilbur soot grins.

“you have fucked up every sense of love and appreciation that child can endure.” and then wilbur soot disappears,

and george begins to cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honkk sorry for the short chapter yall. i am v tired am but i will endeavour for daily updates muah. i appreciate every single read, kudo, comment and bookmark! you all are amazing :)


	8. chapter eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sapnap finally reaches little haven, and begins to search for the closure he requires

arriving at little haven isnt a big deal to me. i came to mossland falls every day usually to visit dream’s grave - but today i felt as if i had a reason to be there, not to amble in a sense of hopelessness and yearning. my stomach is full and my hair is dry under what seemed to be a makeshift umbrella (thankyou wilbur), and my boots are pushing me forward down the last incline before meeting the soft grass that was the little haven trading market and campsite. slowly, the dirt trail merges with the overgrown grass that surrounded shanty stalls - and travelling caravans. rain has soaked every inch of life, and for the first time in several months - the campsite is almost empty.

puddles litter areas of the grassy field - and wild daises droop over the extra water not needed to survive. water splashes up my boots once again, as equal amounts pour down onto my umbrella - pinging off with a quiet patter. one camp holds two people were talking in hushed whispers over a campfire, while another was empty of people. it was almost eerie for little haven to be silent, but i move on fast towards the little ravine outside the trading area.

when i arrived at the familiar spot, water was sloshing fast down from the rivers that pour down into the darkness, and i stare down into the abyss as the rain pours down harder. id have to be quick, so that i wouldnt be flooded in. then id find an inn, or go back to wilbur until the rain cleared and go back down again. in my mind, waiting seemed to be the smarter option, but my fingers buzz and my calves ache - and i need to run. i need to find him.

so i run.

i throw my pack up onto a tree branch, nestling it between the trunk and the bottom of the branch, and i shrug off my cloak and tuck it under a tree branch, before closing the umbrella and tucking that away too. knife? yes. hiking boots? yes. my leather poncho - for keeping the ran out? on and tied tight. i let my legs retrace the familiar path to the small wooden gate, that bears a warning. and i step over the gate slowly.

and there he is.

he’s back - once again. dressed similarly to me - adorning his leather poncho, and blonde locks falling messily around his porcelain face. he grins.

“took you long enough to get here.”

_ where have you been? _

“waiting for you.” he looks over his shoulder at the rushing water, before running off down the trailway. i quickly follow him, tightening the bandana in my hair to keep my fringe out of the way. the ground is slippery, and i cant seem to hold much footing but i dont back out.

“the water is rising. are you sure?”

_ just a look. just a look to see. _

“what are you looking for?”

_ im not looking for anything. im here to bring you home. _

we stop about halfway down the ravine, where the water nearly laps on the edge of the trailway. frowning, i watch the image of dream hop the edge of the trail quickly - landing on the other side of the small cliff ledge, stumbling to catch his balance before hugging the cliffs edge. he looks at me, as if hes offering for me to follow. i hesitate - before jumping too, hugging the wall. he shuffles around the small edge, and i follow slowly - eyeing the water carefully. he stops at another bigger edge - and i turn to him.

_ where are you taking me? _

“theres a part of this ravine i want you to see.”

_ you’re my memory. why is this happening? why are you interacting back with me?  _

the image of dream frowns slightly, before turning on his foot and shuffling alone the cliff edge again. i sigh, looking at the water level again before shuffling along after him - cheek pressed against the clay wall.

we reach a different part of the ravine, still at the same water level but just deeper inside the ravine, in a cave nook area. above us is shaded by oak leaves, letter no light in, and i stumble a little before clinging to the wall again.

_ dream? _

“sapnap.”

_ im scared. _

“i know you are. keep moving.” there’s reluctantly in my each movement, and the memory of dream breathes closely against my skin as if he is trying to urge me on.

_ is this worth it? _

“im bringing you to me.”

_ is my mind playing tricks on me? _

“open your eyes.”

and when i do open my eyes, i turn to see a pool of purple, and deep blue. slowly, my throat dries up and i suddenly realise exactly what im staring at.

a mirror pond.

a transport mirror pond.

“what the fuck..” i breathe out softly, fingers gripping the wall tightly as the memory of dream stares at the rippling water, mouth firm. another crack of thunder sends my gaze quickly towards the opening of the smaller section of the cave, and my eyes widen as water comes crashing down the smaller waterfall.

_ dream. _

“jump sapnap.”

_ what? _

“into the mirror pond.”

_ are you nuts? _

“think, sapnap think! do you really think your brain would be playing these kinds of tricks on you? to this extent?”

_ its possible! _

“oh come on now, sapnap think! when did you get your ear pierced?”

_ what does this have to do with the subject matter? _

“you were thirteen - and you did it in the washroom with a needle and some ice cause you thought you would look cool but you never could afford earings, and it got infected on the second night!” water at our calves.

_ why do i care? we’re both going to get flooded in! _

“did you remember that story before just then?”

_ no? _

“so fucking think! how could i have just said that if you didnt consciously remember that?” theres water at our thighs.

oh?

oh.

i look up fast, staring at dream’s face. he’s pale, and panicked - but he’s my dream. freckles, emerald eyes - rose lips.

_ will you catch me? _

and my childhood comes slipping back through the cracks in my facade, and dream nods fast - willing away my tears that seem to have somehow slipped down my cheeks.

“i always will. always.”

i steady myself, staring at the pond as water creeps up to our chests, and it feels so familiar - and so frightening. i untie my poncho fast, before dipping my head under the fresh water and meeting eye to eye with a familiar layer of purple and blue hues.

_ a slip. _

_ water. _

_ and i can’t breathe. _

_ im choking, there’s water in my lungs _

_ im crying, im crying because im cold _

and not because i watched dream and george run away from me, as i fell. 

not this time.

i cry because im coming home.

back to my dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhh!!! here we go!! dream was real all along! some of you were v smart to catch onto that in the first few chapters anyways but yay! i can finally write some dreamnap shit now !!
> 
> comments appreciated! ily all!! have a good day :D


	9. chapter nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dream and sapnap finally reunite

my sixteenth birthday was spent in the small town of ochraj - on the southern side of the kingdom. it was a very quiet town - but was known for its basalt salt hot springs, and its healing properties that were associated with them. we spent the morning - kicking up water in the early sunlight, as the springs bubbled with surges of warm air that floated up from the earth. dream was seventeen - and still as sweet as ever, but he was much more - cocky, in a sense. he walked with a pride as people stared at him, and didnt shy away from peering eyes anymore. it was admirable, and enduring. and little sixteen year old me, who was only months away from falling into the mirror pond at strandec - was hypnotised by his every movement.

george had left to cook up whatever leftovers we had for breakfast, and dream and i sat by the baths - faces peering out over the steamy waters as the last of the fireflies blinked away into the light.

“how does it feel to be sixteen?” dream had asked softly, tipping his mask up slightly, and i had shrugged, heart queasy at the sight of dream’s lower face. how heart sick i was.

“pretty cool. pretty cool, i mean - yeah. its good. good.” i had stumbled over my words, and dream had laughed - shaking his head and dipping his feet in the water. the breeze ruffled his blonde curls and each lock caught the suns rays which peaked through the leaves of maple.

“are you nervous?”

“why would be nervous?”

“around me?” i blushed, turning my gaze away, and kicking up the water slightly with my foot. slowly, dream creeped his left hand across my right one which was buried in the grass, and caught it, pressing it down. turning a sickly pink, i had turned only to have my chin caught by a calloused fingers, which wriggled there way further beneath my chin.

“are you nervous because you want to be kissed?”

“kissed?” i had stuttered.

“yes - kissed. kissed until it feels good here.” he had poked at my stomach. “and here.” he poked to my chest. i blushed again.

“wouldnt you like to know.”

“i would - i really would.” he leans forward, i lean back. he’s almost on top of me now.

“you’re sixteen. so kiss me, sapnap.”

“george?” i had barely squeaked.

“doesnt mind. i spoke to him.” and im connecting our lips softly. its messy - really messy, but so sickening sweet for my first time. his hand has grasped onto the side of my face and under my chin, and my hands have moved up his shoulder blades and into his hair. every movement is long, drawn out - but our mouths sing melodies that seem to be the prettiest thing from a sixteen year olds mouth. the sound of george whistling as he walks back towards the spring causes dream to drop my face and pull away, gripping my thigh on the way out.

“later.” and he rises to his feet, dusting himself off - before meeting george in the middle of his stride - and im left alone with swollen lips and a head full of cotton.

-

the dull thump of footsteps pounds against my head as i begin to rise from whatever sleep i had fallen into. the memories of yesterday, and the ravine seem to be strung together in a messy heap, and my fingers uncurl themselves from my first, and i rub my temple - letting out an exasperated groan. rolling over onto my back, i manage to peel open my eyes to only be met with a sky of purpled blues once again, and my heart which was once full, shatters at the realisation that my memories of dream had led me back to the riff. maybe the riff had become a sense of comfort to me, or maybe i wanted to pass in a sense. whatever it was - it didnt cause me to panic or cry anymore. the footsteps keep thumping near my head which causes me to force myself to sit up slowly, and blearily blink away the sleep thats fogging my mind. the footsteps near me stop abruptly, a voice calls out to me:

“sapnap?”

its warm, sage, rosemary - warm and comforting. its oakwood fires and apple cider. my brain clicks into play and i freeze, before stumbling to my feet fast.

“dream?!” i cry out and spin, and when i stop - all i see, and feel is him.

he’s the same. hasnt aged one bit. dressed in his usual attire, but his hair has grown longer. he’s staring at me - emerald eyes wide with fear and shock. this isnt a memory anymore. this is him.

and i run.

he throws his arms around me, and i sobbing - throat already raw. his hands are all over me, in my hair - on my face, down my shirt and my heart is singing because i can smell and see is him. my fingers thread themselves into his curls and he connects our lips in a passionate kiss, that sends shakes through my legs and tears down my cheeks. he tastes like lemon candy, steeped chamomile tea - and home. 

he tastes like home.

he’s mewling my name as we tumble to the floor, and my hands loosen themselves from his hair to hold his face. his tears are mixing with mine and my brain is moving to fast to tell whats real whats not.

“sapnap - baby.”

“dream, i missed you.”

his hands are under my shirt.

“i missed you. i missed you so bad. fuck, fuck.” he kisses me hard again to shut me up, and we’re a mess. limbs are spewing, shirts untucked and hair wild. my bandana slips from my head down to my neck, and it seems like hours later when we finally calm enough to sit, foreheads pressed together and legs tucked beneath each others. we’re sharing the same air, and his hands are rubbing up and down my thighs in a slow motion. and im okay.

“how did you survive this long?” 

“i dont know.”

“so i wasnt losing my mind?”

“you got my messages.”

“what about george?”

“just kiss me sapnap. use your pretty face for good.” i laugh and i kiss him, because thats all i care about right now. i forget george, forget bad, forget wilbur, bad and skeppy - and all i think of is him, and how the fuck i was so lucky.

“what do we do now?” i ask once we pull away, and i look around slowly.

“im not sure. george and that dont know im here.”

“you didnt tell them?”

“they thought i was insane dream! they - they thought i was losing my shit! so i left, i fucking left because i dont care! george doesn't fucking love me! why does it matter?” dream is silent, running his hands through his messy hair - and i clamper to my feet to pace, to jump around and get my energy out. 

“sapnap.” i stop, rolling on the balls of my feet and i turn to him. 

“how havent you starved here?” i interrupt before he can start talking.

“i dont know baby.”

“i dont know either. i dont know anything about this place.” i shudder out a breath and dream shakes his head.

“come here and dont speak til tomorrow comes.”

and i know tomorrow will never come anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh! finally some fluff! this was my favourite chapter to write and it flew past v fast! this is the first time in this series that we actually have strong dreamnao interactions so horray for firsts!
> 
> comments are appreciated!!! ily all :)
> 
> ig: vwarges


	10. chapter ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the group reaches little haven, and begins to investigate

most of little haven has flooded by the time both duos arrive at the camping grounds. their horses kick and fling their heads at the rushing water around their foot - but their riders urge them to move forward, towards the higher part of little haven. george is silent, eyes downcast and arms tight as karl leads the two of them up the final climb towards mossland falls, which was the higher part of the area. karl seems shaken from the encounter too - but hides his fear between a face of determination, and in the hope that sapnap will be waiting upon the hill for them.

and when karl pushes up the last of the incline, he is met with an empty hillside, except for the towering pines and wet moss that clings to each branch. he sighs, looking back over his shoulder at george - who is still quiet, and offers him a shake of the head. george stiffens slightly, pulling up his horse before sliding off his saddle - karl following suit. they both lead their horses under the cover of some thicker pine trees, tieing them to the thick branches that lurch lowly from the tree, and george surveys the area slowly.

“they’ll be here soon.”

karl looks at george, who stares at dream’s headstone from a distance. it sticks out like a sore thumb, due to the dashes of colour the spurt from otherside of the cobblestone slab. sapnap planted several lots of peony seeds back a few months ago - and it seems that the abundance of water has down the flowers good. george bites down on his finger nails, weighing up the pros and cons - before stalking over to investigate himself. karl, once again, stays silent - before retreating back over to his horse to loosen his saddle.

bad and skeppy arrive minutes later - both as drenched as the other two, but in higher spirits. skeppy shoots karl a look as he watches george crouch over dream’s grave - and karl shrugs back, offering a look back that reads ‘we’ll talk later’.

“we didnt see anything on our way through. most of the people we met were escaping the flood waters. told us we were insane for going back towards the camp grounds.” bad starts, approaching george cautiously. george lifts his gaze from the weeds he has plucked from around the stone, before looking at bad.

“he’s gotta be here somewhere. someone saw him.”

“who?”

“some - mage. ask karl - i dont want to think about it.” george’s voice is icy, and bad frowns at the sudden hostility that has formed between the two. he rolls his shoulders back slowly, stretching - before looking back at the other two - who seem to be setting up a makeshift camp.

“we’ll need to sleep and then head out at dawn tomorrow. this area will flood more if we dont hurry.”

“i know.”

“and if we dont find him - we’ll loop back around to the kingdom and get a search guard sent out.”

“i know.”

“and then we can split-,”

“bad - what if he doesn't want to come home? what - what if he ran away, because he hates me?” george’s voice drops slightly, shaking with weakness that is so unlike the older. bad pauses, wiping the water that drips from his hair onto his face before sighing.

“he has alot going on.”

“i wasnt there for him.”

“he just needs time.”

“he needed me and i left him alone.” george’s voice breaks, but he wills himself not to cry. “dream would absolutely kill me if he knew i did this bad. i let everyone down.” lightening, a crash from behind.

“come on - the boys are starting a fire.” bad steps back slightly, before rushing off on his heel as the rain begins to fall harder. in the distance, a voice calls to george - which he can barely hear over the constant rumble of thunder.

“i could never hate you george.”

so george whispers back.

_ so what should i do? _

“i called to him and he heard me. so come back to me, come find me too. listen to me.”

george is not stupid, george is not naive. george isnt sapnap.

so he pushes the voice away, climbing to his feet before walking away from the grave as the sky grows darker.

-

they go down to the ravine by foot, karl staying behind to look after the horses and gear. the campground is at knee high water depth as the trudge towards the small opening wear the water parts down in the ravine. the water is thundering loud, and skeppy warns them all to stay back as they approach closer. george looks around anxiously for any signs of the younger, and bad investigates for any signs of life amongst the water.

“there!”

skeppys voice knocks them all from their search - and they follow skeppy’s gaze to stare at the lone oak that reaches across the ravine. within the branch sits a small bag tucked between the trunk and the outstretched hand, and a silk cloak hangs limply in the wind.

“sapnap!” george cries out, but skeppy’s gaze has already moved from the tree - because within the trashing of the water only metres away, a faint purple hue sits within the bubbles of the water. bad shoots a look between george who is already collecting sapnaps gear from the tree, and skeppy who is stepping cautiously towards the crack in the ground.

“skeppy?” bad calls tentatively, but skeppy is already peering over the edge of the water. in a quick movement, bad is pulling skeppy back up away from the edge.

“are you nuts?” he hisses to skeppy, shaking him by his shoulders - and skeppy wrenches himself from his grasp fast.

“im not! im not - look!” skeppy hisses, pointing a finger towards the water.

george, overhearing the commotion, stumbles back over towards the group - holding sapnaps pack within his arms. he frowns at the two boys who are leaning over the ravine’s edge, staring down at the water.

“what? what is it?”

“a mirror pond. there’s a mirror pond down there.”

“what does that mean?”

“it means that dream could have fallen into the pond. that boy you saw may not have been dream.”

and george turns, stumbling back before retching into the deep blue hues of the water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooo yes skeppy come help them!! things are looking slightly hopeful!! more angst still to come though so keep you eyes peeled!
> 
> comment gang!!! ily!! have a good day!!
> 
> ig: vwrages


	11. chapter eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the group splits off in preparation to bring the two home

“its only smart if i go down.”

“no way - no way! im not losing you again!”

“neither george or yourself know how to survive riffs.”

“its out of the question. please.” bad’s voice breaks slightly at the end of his plead, and skeppy sighs - shooting george a look. both george and bad know that skeppy will go in anyways, but bad just got skeppy back - and george loves the two of them too much.

so they all stand, and stare.

in the cold of night, and in the pouring rain.

“do we send them to hamley’s echo?” george asks quietly, hugging sapnap’s pack close - and skeppy shrugs.

“i could show them to alternative route out. how i go out. i dont want to deal with hagglers.”

george frowns.

“when we first met - you were coming out from hamley’s echo. isnt that how you got out?” 

“well - that wasnt really true. i just - didnt trust you.”

“charming.”

“ochraj - you know the place?”

“hot springs - right?”

“yeah - hot springs. riffs are connected through ponds - as you know, but they also have holes in their connections. some areas of riffs were the colour of the water is a different shade is a hotspot - which sometimes leads to an exit.”

“an exit? to a pond?”

“no - to a natural water source. rivers, lakes, hot springs too.”

“so you escaped through ochraj?”

“exactly. if i get in the pond-.”

“dont even think about it.” bad hisses, and skeppy rolls his eyes.

“i can lead them to a hotspot. this means that bad will go back home to access the communication pond if we need help, and george and karl to can make their way to ochraj and wait.”

“and what if you guys cant escape?” george asks.

“we’ll all loop to hamleys and exit that way.”

bad interrupts again.

“we arent even sure that sapnap’s in there, let alone dream. this could be a trap.”

“if i go in and find nobody - itll make the escape faster. i know what im doing.”

“skeppy - please. i-i..” he stutters, and looks down. george turns away, giving them privacy.

“ill be fine.” skeppys voice is strong, and warm. and bad feels as if he doesnt have a choice anymore. 

so he lets him go.

bags are packed fast, and swung over shoulders. hugs are shared and saddles are tightened. bad leads skeppy back down to the ravine, and they share a tight hug - bad shaking weakly under his facade.

“ill be fine.”

“liar.”

“ill be back soon.”

“three days max or im coming in after you.”

“bad-.”

“you cant die alone. you cant.” they are silent, bads cheeks slated with tear stains - before skeppy hugs him again.

“ill be back in three days.”

george and karl on the other hand are back on horseback, exiting the trail back out near thatchers court. george is tired and weary, and karl is quiet but headstrong. mid gallop, george drops back and shoots karl a look.

“its only fair if you lead now. its your go to be in charge.”

and karl grins like never before.

they ride until the only light is the freckled moon and porcupine stars that guide them toward ochraj hot springs. the kingdom - from a distance, is lit up with marvellous torches that shine light across the land - and even in the night, the flag of gold, red, blue and black flutters high into the sky. its a sense of comfort for george - as he saw sapnap wear those colours so proudly before, but also a reminder of their past as theives.

dream and george had stopped stealing as soon as sapnap disappeared - too worried that if they would get caught stealing - they’d end up in prison and sapnap would die alone. all three of them contained the skills to earn high ranking jobs - but as soon as george realised that sapnap was smarter, more quicker - than the average child at stealing - who was he to stop the boys natural instinct.

every day, sapnap would bring to the camp more hefty loot - and taught george every trick he knew. when dream joined, sapnap once again taught dream all of his card tricks and it became a lifestyle to gamble and steal almost constantly. it felt so long ago now, almost foreign. george’s stomach quenches, and he looks away from the lights of the kingdom. 

the duo reaches ochraj by dawn - as fall begins to creep into the air. they tie up their horses up and leave them to graze in the field before setting up their makeshift camp under a few willows that lurch near the hotsprings. karl spreads out his sleeping bag, george lights the fire - and they sit, warming up slightly.

george speaks.

“im sorry.”

“for what?”

“that you got dragged into this.”

“its okay.” its not.

“ill take you back home after this. if you’d like.” karl looks away, staring at his hands before nodding.

“okay.”

it breaks georges heart that karl wants to leave, but he doesnt deserve the anguish that plagues george and sapnap’s relationship. its unfair on karl - who is kind and sweet. its rude almost, ill mannered.

so when karl says he has to brush the horses and leaves, george allows himself to cry one last time. because he misses home, he misses his childhood innocence - and he misses dream.

and he aches to bring him home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some more bad and skeppy dynamics!! also now we know how skeppy got out by himself!! oo yes i love tying off dead ends it just - yes. joy. contentment. 
> 
> comments appreciated! you guys make my day! muah!!
> 
> ig: vwrages


	12. chapter twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dream and sapnap talk some more, and revisit some old memories

“you’ve grown up.”

“change does that to a person.”

“do you feel happy within change?”

“i suppose. i cant really tell under the layers of grief.”

dream threads his hand through my hair lazily, as i run my hands up and down his back in a slow manner. we are quiet, talking in only small whispers - but we are content in our darkness. slowly, i slink my leg around his waist slowly and he moves our combines weight over so that im resting ontop of him, faces only centimetres apart.

“talk to me.” he whispers - i huff, pulling my hands out from underneath his back. he captures both my wrists quickly, and presses a kiss to the inside of my left. i blush.

“talk to me.” he says again - and i frown.

“what is there to know? ive told you everything - about george, karl, bad and skeppy. wilbur too. its almost as if i read it from a book dream.” i rub my face between shaky palms, snaking my hands from dreams grasp.

“about george. us. the relationship. we were what - the troublesome trio? we were unstopable.”

“keyword - were.”

“what’s stopping us from making that again?”

“firstly - were trapped in a riff - again, secondly - george hates me - because he thinks i was the cause of your ‘death’ and thirdly - you and george fell apart.”

“we didnt.. fall apart. and besides, george could never hate you sapnap.”

“george never told me anything about what happened after i fell. i dont remember much from my time in the riff anyways.” dream stiffens slightly underneath my body and i watch his gaze shift slightly under my intense stare.

“later.” he says, and slides himself out from underneath. he moves with grace, always has - and i manage to land on the floor as if i was never sitting on something before.

dream begins to pace slightly, hands running through beached curls - before turning back to me.

“george blames you for my ‘death’?”

“hes said it to karl multiple times apparently.” dream frowns slightly, lip taken between teeth. i look away, arching my back out in a long cat like movement before sprawling my tired limbs across the cold floor, eyes shut against the glare of purple above.

“i still love george.” dream starts, and i crack open an eye slightly to watch him pace slightly. “but - but, i fell because i was rushing to get to you. i was clumsy. its my own fault.”

“tell that to mr stubborn.”

dream sighs, watching me quietly - and i close my eyes to hide the shame that rushes to my face at the idea of disappointing dream. he frowns.

“when was the last time you two spoke? about emotions?”

“george doesnt talk about those things anymore. he’d wake me up at six, make breakfast - walk me to the academy, ruffle my hair and press a coin into my hand for lunch and then he’d be gone. i’d walk myself home, sit with karl for hours - and then he’d call us for dinner, and then we’d sleep on opposite edges of the bed.”

“and you’d talk about?”

“my hair, scars on my hands - what dream would be doing right now if he was alive, talking about the debt we were in, george’s job. nothing about emotions - or feelings.” dream is silent, eyes closed in thought before shooting me a look.

“what?” i ask.

“when - when we get out, we’ll fix it okay? ill apologise to george - and fix ourselves and w-we’ll talk.. for once. ive never spoken properly to him about anything.” i huff, shaking my head - and running a hand through messy curls. dream suddenly pauses, thinking quietly to himself before turning to me.

“before you said the name - wilbur soot.”

“yeah - what about him?” dream frowns.

“nothing. i knew him a few years ago. we.. interacted, a few times.” dream shakes himself from his thoughts.

“he’s dead.”

“oh?”

“well - a ghost actually.”

“you met him?”

“on the trail.”

“was he - nice to you?”

“he is lovely. kindest soul id met in a while actually.” dream’s brow creases slightly, and i shoot him a look. he turns away slightly, pausing before turning back.

“you didnt tell him my name, did you?”

“dont recall - i think i just said.. friend, or lover. cause of the still ‘wanted’ thing.” dream sighs slightly and my worries deepen.

“why - whats going on?”

“nothing - its noth-.” a large bang resonates through the area - causing us to jump. whatever remnants of our conversation seems to shatter into thin air - and i stumble to my feet, catching myself on dreams side. he steadies me with his arm, and we both share a quiet look.

“what was that?” dream asks.

“dont know.” another bang. “i havent heard that sound in here before.” 

dream grips at my arm slowly. “ten paces each direction.”

“right.” he lets my arm go, but looks me up and down.

“what?”

“i dont want to be away from you. i just got you back.” i laugh - its cheesy, and cringy - and i kiss him hard just for that.

stumbling away from each other, blushing and smiling - we retrace our steps back ten paces. dream pushes his hair from his eyes and watches me like a hawk, grinning madly - and i roll my eyes at him. even in this hell hole - im grinning, and smiling. and im happy for the first time in a while. 

until i stumble.

and im not sure as to what i stumble over until i look down and see a silver blade glinting in the purple light. i frown slightly, picking it up and rolling it in my hands - and dream frowns from a distance.

“you good?”

“yeah..”

“what is it?”

i dont respond just yet - running my fingers across the engraving in the handle before i look up and see a body curled up on the floor. freezing in place, my mind tries to distinguish the body against the black of the floor and then i begin to recognise who it is that is lying in the dark.

long figure, tan skin - raven hair. dream paces up behind me, frowning at the figure.

”who is it?”

i pause.

”skeppy. its skeppy.”

and i run to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmmm wilbur sus wilbur sus. all will be revealed next chapter!! im actually ahead with these chapters and the next chapter was actually very hard to write (it made me cry) so stay tuned for some angst!!


	13. chapter thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a backstory to wilbur soot, and to the enemies created by his existence

**chapter contains graphic descriptions of violence.**

wilbur soot sits, dressed in blue, red, and gold - outside the walls of the kingdom. he’s younger then, still alive - and freshly married. ‘he’s going to start a new nation’ some of the girls in the kitchen tent whisper to the soldiers, and the boys gawk at the idea. it’ll get him killed - yes, wilbur soot knows that - and yes, wilbur soot will take the chance.

his idea for a new nation starts in the training grounds, where he is faced with dream. nobody knows his real name - or why he wears a smiley mask (which wilbur soot thinks looks absolutely dumb), but he’s good. real good. and nobody can beat him - besides a few, but merely. wilbur soot doesnt like the idea that if dream stays any longer, dream will take the role of captain. wilbur worked for the role. he  **needs** to be captain. a new nation wouldnt have to be a whole new piece of land, no it was more a metaphor. kill dream and the world was good again. bring him down.

the seventeen year old is followed around by a circus troupe of freaks. a shorter, wide eyed boy and a taller, doll faced teen. the shorter one is definitely wanted in the kingdom - he recognises the face, and the same with the older. dream has always beaten him in dueling, and wilbur soot isnt one for violence. but he sees weakness in the small group that wanders down small streams, and skips through peach orchards at dawn. and the weakness is dream’s two companions.

wilbur soot, still wearing his uniform - follows the trio home one night - face hard, and sword gripped in hand. he realises that this group will fall like dominos if one goes down, he just needs to seperate them. and that happens when the youngest, as always - wanders off the trail. wilbur soot pauses, looking between the two groups that have split - before following the youngest down the side of path slowly. 

despite being a wanted criminal, the youngest was small - and naive in a sense. his hair was pushed back by a white bandana, and a too big overshirt hung heavy over his frame. wilbur soot tightened his grip on his sword as the boy knelt down in the wild strawberry patch, fingers digging into the dirt. sliding back behind a tree, a voice calls out to the youngest in a honey coated manner - and the youngest responds with a quick ‘coming’, before stuffing the plant in his pack.

and wilbur soot strikes.

he grabs the youngest by the shoulder, spinning him back on his heel before slamming a hand on his mouth, pushing the boy against the tree. the boy is wide eyed, shaking like a leaf - pale, as wilbur soot’s sword glints in the afternoon light.

“scream and i’ll fucking stab you. and i’ll make it hurt.” the youngest grows paler under wilbur soot’s hold, mumbling soft plea’s to let him go.

“sapnap! come on! its getting late!” dream calls into the forest loudly, and the boy sinks in wilbur soots grasp.

“tell them you’re coming.” wilbur soot lifts his hand slowly, and the boy takes the chance to scream.

“dream! george! help me!” wilbur soot is fast, slamming the boy back up against the tree, and drawing his sword back. 

“i told you to be fucking quiet!” wilbur soot hisses loudly, and the thundering of footsteps becomes closer, accompanied by two voices calling his name, panicking.

“this is going to fucking hurt.” and how wilbur soot imagines it did. straight into the gut. it wouldnt kill him, if they were fast enough. the youngest pales even more, looking down at the blade embedded in his stomach - before wilbur soot retracts the blade in a fast movement, causing the boy to tumble into himself, and curling up on the ground. his sobs are half hatched, airy as he fumbles to press his shirt into the wound. his sobs are loud enough to alert the other two to his location though, and wilbur soot turns to meet the angered face of dream and his companion.

and dream’s face morphs into something indescribable, as his eyes catch the form of sapnap curled in the grass - holding his wound. he turns to wilbur soot.

“let george get to sapnap - and then let me fucking murder you for even laying a hand on him.”

wilbur soot wipes the blood from his sword across his shirt slowly, which angers dream even more.

“no thanks. it’ll give you a motive to beat me, wont it? having your bleeding friend at the finish line.” dream draws fast, and george calls to sapnap quietly from behind dream - but doesnt dare step towards wilbur.

“he’ll bleed out by the time ive fucking killed you.” 

“thats on you - learn to be faster, dream.”

“youre insane wilbur.”

“you took everything from me! you waltzed into the academy and took everything! i was the best until you arrived!” 

“then prove to me, that youre the best.” and wilbur soot never steps down from a battle. 

the battle is glorious - swords dancing like maiden women, hitting and slicing in all the right places. wilbur soot even feels he has the upper hand, but not until dream side swipes his feet and wilbur crashes to the ground, sword fumbling from his grasp. dream is right on top of him, foot on his chest and sword drawn high above his throat.

“you - are weak.” wilbur soot calls to him, laughing. “so upset about a younger boy who provides nothing to you.” dream tenses more, and goes to speak but is interrupted by george, who calls dreams name in a desperate matter. he’s holding the younger - struggling to hold the two of their packs on his back. dream turns back to wilbur.

“long live the king.” he mutters, a phrase only used by the captain of each battalion before bringing the sword down straight into wilbur soots heart. he doesnt wait for wilbur soot to properly die - he pulls the sword out fast, and resheaths it before rushing to george and taking the pack from him. he’s gushing over sapnap - and george is telling him that they need to get back to ochraj or somewhere nearby, where they can get to a doctor. in wilbur soots dying moments, he hears dream trying desperate attempts to make the boy spell his own name, or count numbers - but its feeble. the boy wont make it to night fall. wilbur soot knows he has won

until he hasnt.

when wilbur soot is a ghost, he meets sapnap on the trail again. he’s older, a little taller - and thinner than a stick. his eyes are cold, just like wilbur’s - and he doesnt remember a thing from that night. brownhog potion, wilbur soot thinks - used to clear memories of the last twenty four hours. no kid should live through that trauma, the angel on his shoulder says. but he’s already given the kid much more trauma than he wouldve asked for.

how would he tell them that he planted the body at little haven for george to find? his plan to kill the younger hadnt gone to plan - so splitting the group another way was his only option. he had seen dream make his way down the trail - alone, and had watched him stumble into the pond by accident. a fool - he was, and so wilbur soot laughed. he laughed until his sides hurt. so when george came down alone, wilbur soot took the mangled body of a beldam and launched him down into the waters. it was a success, when george went pale as ice. grief was an emotion that wilbur soot craved, and watching george freak out in a silent cry to the heavens - he was satisfied. even when they met again on the trail, george had been too consumed by wilbur soot’s taunts to even recognise who he was.

a smiles morphs to a smirk as he watches sapnap leave down towards little haven.

long live the king indeed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i actually was v sad writing this,, but yes now we know who the culprit was all along for the faked death of dream. will wilbur come back? will wilbur seek revenge? will wilbur finish the job? time will tell ;)
> 
> comment gang!!! hi ily!! have a good day mauh
> 
> ig: vwrages


	14. chapter fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> skeppy informs the two travellers on how to escape mirror ponds, and sapnap confronts dream about george and wilbur

so they found the pound.”

“yep - and they instantly knew you wouldve gone in. and hey - they were right.”

“and referring to dream?”

“george still thinks youre bullshitting. he thinks its your grief talking and this is just a wild goose chase.” skeppy is staring at dream, eyes searching for any signs of a threat within his body posture. but he’s limp, eyes weak - and pale. he wasn’t the world’s most feared warrior anymore, he was clay - an eighteen year old kid, who had fallen and lost his luck. dream scowls.

“i dont understand.”

“neither do i.” 

we all sit in silence, skeppy watching dream with cautious eyes, and dream - rubbing his hand up and down my thigh. it seems to be a comfort thing - to make sure that im still real. he’d been hallucinating me too apparently, and i frowned at thought. what would i even say? do even?

“well - anyways.” skeppy starts, “im here to rescue you guys. bad is at the comm. pond back at our place, and george and karl are making their way to ochraj as we speak.”

“ochraj? why ochraj? shouldnt they be going to hamley’s echo?”

“well - yeah. here’s the thing about mirror ponds.” skeppy takes his knife from my grasp before throwing it up into a lighter patch. like before, the water ripples before the knife comes tumbling down, bringing a bucket load of water just to the right of us. its the exact same thing that happened with karl and the stone.

“what about that?” dream asks.

“when it rebounds like that, its not just hitting a ‘boundary’ or anything. its breaking the surface of another body of water, which causes the outside pressure to cave in which creates a semi whirlpool effect. thats another way people randomly get sucked in from time to time.”

“what are you saying?” i ask, shaking my head at the information overload, and skeppy sighs - collecting his blade from the ground.

“it means that there are hotspots within the riff that allow people to escape. theyre light blue - almost clear, like the one above us. but they need to be big enough for a human to get through or you get compressed between the two layers.” dream and i both shiver at the thought, before the realisation of what skeppy just said sets into play.

“wait - what? we can escape through to other bodies of water?”

“youre smarter than you look.”

“touche.”

“whatever,” dream interrupts. “where can we escape to?”

“ochraj - as i said.”

“so you told the others this?”

“mhm.”

“so what do we do now?” i interrupt again.

“we walk. we walk until we find the patch.” skeppy shrugs on his pack that has somehow made it into the riff, and shoots us a look.

“well - are you coming?”

dream doesnt give me a choice.

-

we walk for hours upon hours. well, i think its been hours. it couldve been days at this point. dream’s arm is slung across my shoulder - picking at the fraying shoulder stitchings, and my head is deep in thought, eyebrows creased. dream makes a light hearted comment about i’d get extra wrinkles from frowning that much, and i force out a laugh. but the air is thick with unresolved tension, and as skeppy marches ahead - i use my last wilts of social energy to crack a question that has been haunting me for a year now.

“dream?”

“yes?”

“will you talk to me?”

“about what?”

“george?”

“what about george?”

“why you two were not travelling together?” dream hesitates in his step slightly, before frowning.

“ah - it was just, space. i guess - i just needed you.” his grip tightens on my shoulder slightly, and it sends comforting sparks to my lower stomach - but i shake my head.

“george got as far as telling me you got ambushed by beldams in the plains. then what happened?”

“i made it out alive - realised that we had to stop pacing, and george would think i was losing my mind if i tried to make him move faster. so i just - left.”

“and youre okay with this? dream - i know, i know im upset with george right now but. but he was already missing me - and - how do you think he wouldve felt being alone?” dream is silent, eyes searching the floor for answers - and my head hurts with the overwhelming surging of thoughts.

“we both - we both realised by the time we met bad, was that we needed you for this to work. i know they say three’s a crowd but - with you, it works. and - i didnt want to strain george through that any longer.”

“but george and i have never dated.”

“i know - but you were always someone to trust, to lean on. you babied him like he babied you and he found his worth when you complimented him.” i smile weakly at the idea. george was a big softie when he wasnt stressed all the time.

“i guess i owe him some slack.”

“so do i.”

we walk in silence, before dream drops his voice slightly.

“are you sure you dont remember anything about wilbur soot?”

i frown.

“no?”

“good.” i stop in my tracks, causing dream to halt in his steep.

“whats going on dream? whats this about wilbur i need to know? what are you hiding from me?”

dream tries to walk, but i step infront of him.

“im serious.”

“ill tell someday.”

“i want to know. now.”

“sapnap.”

“dream please, stop hiding-.”

“ _ nick.”  _ its the first time dream has ever used my real name before, and it sends sparks down my spine - causing me to immediately shut up. he stares down at me, eyes angry but face stone cold - before stepping back, and shaking himself out of his gaze. i buckle slightly - and he catches the fear in my eyes slowly. he reaches out to grab my arm again but i step backwards fast.

“i need to talk to skeppy.” and i rush away, leaving dream several paces behind and with a look of fear on his own face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am getting so close to writing the reuniting scene but i keep adding more and more chapters each day so i can close all ties ahhh!! sorry for all the people who just wanted the three to come back together already :( more angst and pain still to come!! 
> 
> comment gang!!! ily!!


	15. chapter fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> george and karl talk it out some more

_ they are running. feet pounding as the rain falls harder. the boy in the lead holds all three packs, while the other holds a limp figure in their arms. lightning strikes above, causing the two to jump and the one who holds the limp figure of another, calls out in a cry as the figure loosens its grip on his hand. _

_ “dream!” _

_ dream breaks fast, turning around in a quick fashion to see george crouched under a tree, fussing over the younger who is barely conscious anymore. dream makes his way over fast - dropping the packs quickly, and crouching beside george - who is craddeling sapnaps head in his lap. _

_ “what is it?” dream asks, and george shakes his head. _

_ “we cant - run. we cant. its hurting him.” dream searches the younger’s form, and watches his pale face flit through surges of consciousness and pain. _

_ “he’s going to die, george.” _

_ “i know.” _

_ “one of us has to run alone.” _

_ “ill go.” george is fast to take charge, shifting sapnap’s weight onto dream. _

_ “be fast. a doctor - or a mage. fucking anybody will do.” _

_ george hesitates slightly, turning back to sapnap slightly. _

_ “nick. nick - listen to me.” the youngest isnt listening, but he doesnt care. he kisses the youngers knuckles slightly. “five minutes bud. five minutes.” he pushes raven locks off his pale face. “ill be back in five minutes with help.” _

_ the youngest - who wont make it to five minutes - mutters out a weak ‘okay’ - and dream screams at him to run. _

-

george wakes with a start. its natural, and its common - and it causes george to feel sick to the stomach. the memories of what had happened a year ago sit uncomfortably in his stomach - and the knowledge of who the mage was that he ran into haunts his mind.

_ that was wilbur soot. _

george shouldve stabbed him. shouldve killed the man. but he was a ghost, already dead at the hands of dream. so stabbing him wouldnt have done anything. wilbur’s words had all been a disguise - to cover up who he really was. in his anger - george had been blind, blind to see that wilbur was the one who stabbed sapnap. the little shit. 

george is awaken from his thoughts at karl’s humming. its softly, wilting almost - and george cracks an eye to meet the sight of karl dilting at the waters edge. he’s quiet, maybe waiting for something to appear in the ghostly shadows that have settled across the water. george rustles from his sleep, running a hand through knotted locks and calls out to karl - who blearily meets his gaze.

“anything?”

“no. just water.”

“it may take them a while. come back to bed.” it cant be earlier than six am - as dawn as barely cracked over the horizon. it satays the land in hues of melancholy yellows - and george lets out a warm yawn, blinking away the thoughts of his nightmare that have settled like fog. karl obliges, moving away from the water - and he stalks back up through the grass, only to settle next to george in their little camp. they sit in silence, george picking at grass sprouts while karl shreds seed pods as the sun echos morning hellos into the atmosphere.

“i was thinking.” karl starts

“about?”

“going home.” george stiffens slightly, averting his gaze to the buckles on his boots. they rusted and are hanging off with loose stitchings. he really should get a new pair, but they’re dreams old pair. he can’t part with them.

“yeah?”

“yeah - and i, i don’t think i want to go home anymore.” george pauses slightly, bringing his gaze up from the buckle to meet karl’s lighthearted gaze. he’s smiling, admits the situation staring them down - but that’s always been karl. too sweet, too innocent. too naive to care.

“i think my home is with you - and sapnap. i just - i just think that this whole situation is being caused because of the basis of communication. sapnap told me that you two never talk feelings.”

“they’re signs of weakness. the academy trains kids out of that.”

“well before you know it - sapnap is going to end up like - like dream, whose head was always switched on the right way but - but his emotions were too strong because he was always fighting against them. thoughts and feelings aren’t things you can push aside george. they need to be spoken, and spread. like jam on bread, or cream cheese on corn bread.” george is quiet once again, face twisted in thought. sapnap was cold - he had been since dream’s death - but the academy also influenced that. he remembered dream speaking about how the academy would say things like - ‘if your mother was wronging the kings name, and you were trained under the service of god, you would have to kill her in safety of the kings name’ and so on. it was wrong, and george had been blind to see it. it made him feel sick.

“i think sapnap is already like dream.”

“to you - maybe.”

“what? does he talk to you about these things?”

“sure - sometimes. when i’m painting. he’s a very talkative kid when you let him speak.”

“he turns eighteen soon. and then he has to train full time at the academy.”

“he doesn’t have to. do you really think that sapnap is the violent type?”

“he said he wanted to karl.”

“george - are you blind? he’s shutting up and going to the academy because he doesn’t want to disappoint either you or dream!” george freezes at the sudden realisation, and his stomach seems to knot at the idea. both of the boys sink into a silence that seems to stretch on for hours, until george speaks up slowly:

“want to go for a swim?”

they strip naked, as boys do - and dive into the hot springs. there is no dignity, no lies - forming walls between the two boys. the birds sing melodies of yesterday, and the heat ripples high into the battered blue skies of tomorrow. in the clear hues of the ponds of ochraj, george strikes the wild realisation that today is november first. 

“im twenty - two.” george whispers to the earth, and it sings back hollow tunes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (starts beatboxing) okay okay three chapters to go (maybe) - i am a little behind on my writing and i have a huge flight im taking tomorrow (during a pandemic? yessir) - so the upload may be missed/ late. i have an idea on how to end it but im unsure if i want the happy ending or the sad ending,, let me know below!! angst or happy??
> 
> comments appreciated! i love seeing ur reactions :D


	16. chapter sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bad finally reaches karl and george, before geogre runs back into a familiar face

bad arrives by sundown, galloping fast and face flushed from the wind. his horse pulls up sharply, bucking and skipping - and bad slips off the side, landing with somewhat grace on his feet. he stalks down to the waters edge to meet the two younger boys, who are spread out in the afternoon sun - dining on tea lily oranges and walnuts. 

“they’re not responding.” george shoots up like a rocket.

“bad?” karl calls wearily, slipping in and out from his afternoon sleep haze - and bad shakes his head, beginning to pace.

“they’re not responding. muffins, muffins! i knew this would happen. i knew it! i shouldn’t have sent him down there.” bad is stressing, hands in his hair and george looks just as pale as the older. karl, rising from his haze - shares a look between the two.

“what does that mean?” karl asks

“it means nothing good.”

“why?”

“because the group can’t get any signals out, which means that if they’re stuck - we won’t know.”

“why has this happened? i thought you said that your pond was working?” george interrupts

“it was! it was… i think the floods, the flood waters have messed up clarity of the connections. lots of debris, dirt, rocks.” 

“how long until another connection can be formed?”

“could be days, weeks - this hasn’t happened to this severity before.” george’s face is creased with concern, and karl looks as stressed as the other two.

“so what now?” karl murmurs,

“im going to hamley’s echo. i dont know if any of their communication ponds are working. one of you two will have to go back and guard my pond just in case it clears.”

“and the other?” george interrupts

“will stay here - of course.”

“ill go.” karl stands up fast. “ill go back to rhavelle. george can stay here, yeah?”

“yeah.” george says. “ill stay here. it shouldnt be long.” 

_ it shouldnt be long _

karl packs his belongs fast, before rewrapping his pack and saddling up his horse. george hangs back under the tree, offering karl a friendly salute as he takes off back towards the trail. bad stiffens beside george - glancing at him, before offering a hand on his shoulder as a sign of support.

“i have a tab in the kingdom. go up there for a night if need be. pigs rum is the place, mage friendly. dont think about it too much.”

george shakes his head, laughing hollowly.

“you were just stressing a minute ago.”

“yeah well - i promised skeppy i wouldnt stress. i trust him, i really do. i trust him enough to help the others find their way out.” bad shakes his head, running a hand through tamed locks.

“you should stay the night here. its getting late. i shouldve made karl stay too.”

“karl will make it to rhavelle before i reach hamley’s echo - and reaching both location by horse is much easier than by foot.”

“i suppose.”

bad pauses, looking george up and down before hugging him.

“it’ll be okay george.”

“thanks bad, it means alot.”

-

night sets in like fog in the valleys, and it claws deep into george’s bones. loneliness and nighttime were few to not be mixed, but within the makeshift camp slanted between two trees - george sits quietly, adorned with both on his arms. the fire is whispering, singing soft secrets of yesterday into untouched ears and graceful fingers. george shifts slightly, stretching out his body before rolling onto his side, face nestled into his arm.

what would happen when all three were reunited? george had always thought about this - back when it was only sapnap missing. would things change now that george and sapnap had a rough relationship? would it just be dream and george, or just sapnap and dream? maybe they all three could work it out - somehow.

a snap of a tree branch alerts george to the presence of something lurking in the trees. he pauses, lifting his head from his arm and turning back to face the flames. over the light that bounces across hues of blue, george catches the eyes of something lingering in the bushes across the water from him. he pauses - eyes searching in the distance, drawing out his bow - until the eyes dart away slowly, causing george to huff into the night. could’ve been a deer, or fireflies - but something in george’s stomach churns and flips.

and then the eyes reappear,

right infront of him.

_ wilbur. _

the older boy tackles him to the ground, pinning his wrists into the grass - and pressing a knee deep into his stomach. george gasps, tears bubbling in his eyes before he pushes the older off him in a fast movement - switching their positions.

“wilbur.”

“george. im surprised you didnt recognise me on the trail.” the mage whispers.

“i was more angry that you still have the fucking balls to insult my relationship with my little brother.” wilbur flips them again, and george hits his shoulder with his elbow.

“i was right, wasnt i? you’re still alone.”

“sapnap is fine and will always be fine. you cant aim with a knife for shit.”

“bled out and you made him drink brownhog potion. i consider that a win in my books.” another swing from wilbur.

“the kid is traumatised.”

“sapnap is fine, and he’s seventeen. he’s not a kid anymore.” george swings back. “and if there’s any trauma, its your fault.”

“how? you made him drink brownhog potion and he didnt remember a thing. i let him in my house, i fed him. i could’ve killed him. i was so fucking close. but he didnt suspect a thing.” wilbur swings into the side of george’s chest, which causes george to choke on his own salvia slightly. using this weakness, wilbur swings into george’s jaw and nose - before climbing to his feet.

“ill stab you like i did with fucking sapnap. and ill make sure you bleed out completely this time.” wilbur hisses, drawing a blade from his pocket.

“how can i even fucking touch you? you’re dead.”

“dead? alive? who fucking cares. all i want is for dream to suffer. and planting that body obviously didnt do enough damage.”

george stops.

“planted.. body?”

“dream isnt dead - you fucking idiot. the body was a fake. i saw dream venture down the path and planted the body after he fell. you didnt even stay to check the body.” 

“asshole.” george rolls to the left as wilbur swings his blade down, causing wilbur to miss and stumble. george kicks out from under his frame, and wilbur falls - landing near his blade with a gasp. george grabs the blade from the ground when a voice calls out wilbur’s name in amidst the willow trees.

“wilbur? wilbur where are you? come on!” theres a young boy standing in the grass, blonde hair fluttering in the wind. he’s holding a lantern, blue eyes wide. slowly, george steps away from wilbur - and wilbur shoots george a look.

“im not going to kill you in front of a child. unlike you, i have morals.” and wilbur stumbles to his feet, rushing off and embracing the younger in a hasty manner - before leaving, without sparing a glance backwards at george.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh!!! we have two chapters left!! im v sad as to what is happening in the next few chapters and i have to decided to lat back off most of the angst for the finale. these boys have been through so much shit so i think its only fair that i give them a proper send off.
> 
> comments are adored! ily all! :)


	17. chapter seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sapnap, dream and skeppy find their way home

“wilbur stabbed me?”

“yes - he did.”

“and you gave me brownhog potion so i wouldnt remember any of this because?”

“because you were going to die in my arms - and all you were saying was ‘im sorry for wandering off’ - out of everything you could have said. you were worried you disappointed me.” i laugh, its fake, but i laugh. dream’s eyes are cautious, sad - watching me like a hawk, and i settle back down into his thigh - eyes closed. we’re silent, as the day drifts on - dream’s hand messing with my locks, as an apology of sorts, and im stretched out against the cold floor. i tell him everything - about the academy, about life, about how im feeling - and dream offers a squeeze on the bicep as an ‘i understand - the academy did this to me too’. his mask has been long discarded, and his bare face brings me fear and hope. maybe he trusts me more, or maybe he knows he may die here. either or, it’s slightly comforting in these times.

  
  


skeppy has been searching for clear waters, in hopes of finding our exit - or even just a way to communicate - but the floods from days ago have sent everything to a mess, and all the water has turned to a murky purple. skeppy is usually an optimist, but when i search his eyes as he stares blankly at the roof above - i see nothing but lost hope. and that scares me.

we have stopped walking for a little while, and have taken the chance to rest amongst the seas of blue that whisper to bury me whole. i am tired, and my limbs hurt - but i refuse to give up. not like last time, i tell myself.

_ i won’t let myself die. _

dream isn’t doing much better, clinging onto whatever false hope that lingers in a mattered tangles of whatever we were. his eyes are suken, face pale - but he hasn’t starved, or lost weight. come to think of it, neither had i when i was trapped in the riff. death perhaps came from the bitter cold that seeped into your lungs and poisoned your tongue and turned melodies to ratted lies of bitter. or maybe it came from the overwhelming feeling of just being alone.

i had been lucky enough to only stay in the riff for a month or so - and even then, i had company. karl made days easier on a weary mind, and it gave me a grasp on the idea that i was still sane slightly. how dream survived was a foreign idea to me. he was a socialite, thriving off talking to others. even if we were fighting, he’d come back and whisper a sulky apology to me - before rambling off about his day. it was comforting, but also fearsome to me. a socialite being alone would surely lead to insanity?

right?

dream wasn’t insane, no. he was quieter now - much i had been like when i returned home. his eyes were anxious, always dancing between little details, such as the knicks on my knuckles and arms, or the strands of brown that randomly appeared in skeppy’s hair. it was intriguing, but once again - made me scared. dream was never like this. he was arrogant, cocky - loud mouthed and ignorant. dream acted with fire, and he danced with it. he was wild, untameable. but sat in front of me was a child - was myself at sixteen. 

“why did wilbur stab me?” i ask randomly, filling our silence - and dream’s gaze flutters back down to my eyes, which peer at him at anxious desperation. dream huffs, and rolls his wrists out from under his cloak.

“because - i had waltzed in and taken his place as captain. and wilbur didn’t like that. he worked for the role. he wanted me to fall apart without directly taking me on. so he went after you because you were alone and vulnerable. that’s my fault.”

“what. no.” i sit up, “if you were better than wilbur then you deserved to be captain. no questions asked.”

“if i had backed down, wilbur wouldn’t have taken after you.”

“he’s a prick.”

“you said you liked him.”

“you think i do now?” i untuck my shirt slowly, and rise up the cotton up against my chest. the pale mark that stretches across my lower stomach sits proudly against my tan skin, and i huff slowly, running a finger across the mark. 

“i thought you said i got a kidney removed or something.”

“yeah well - i had to think of something.”

“charming. you could’ve said i got mauled by a bear - that’s much more edgy.”

“ah - if i said that last year to you - you would’ve cried.”

“oh boohoo. shut up.” i slap his thigh softly, and he barks out a laugh which sounds genuine enough to soothe me. we sit in silence for a while, eyes meeting each other’s occasionally as we gaze up at the sky of blue.

“maybe one day we’ll live in narjeck.” dream starts

“across the border?”

“yeah. i heard they have nice houses for sale.”

“we have a house - near the trail.”

“one with land sapnap. so we can have fields of flowers, or goats - or chickens. and a stream where we can swim. where it’s safe from beldams and people like wilbur soot.”

“the academy?”

“fuck them - we’re fine without them. i want to see you smile again, and laugh and mean it. the academy makes you put on your public face - and you’re pretty shit at it.”

“charming.”

“if i curse out the king right now - will you stab me?” it’s a joke - and it makes me smile slightly.

“no - i don’t think i will.” and he kisses me.

-

there is a ripple in the water.

then two, or three. 

and it clears.

i’m too sleep deprived to really care about what it really means, that the water is clearing - and i roll slightly in dream’s arms. he’s out cold - mouth slightly parted, and drool running down his cheek. skeppy is out cold too, arm draped over his eyes - tired from constantly pacing - but i’m wide awake, somehow. whispers of wilbur soot haunt my mind as i try to sleep, and his face merges itself deep into the murky blues that sift slowly above my head. i’m mesmorised, and alone - and my eyes hurt as i try to decipher why the water is suddenly clearing above my head.

and then it hits me.

“dream..? hey dream, dream!” i’m awake, looking up frantically into the clear - and dream and skeppy soon follow suit, rubbing sleep from their eyes and shaking numb limbs out.

“we’re here.” skeppy grins to the sky, hand blocking the slight light that filters down above us.

“so what now?” dream asks, staring upwards in the same suit. my gaze flickers between the two, who seem to be mesmirised by the water - before skeppy focuses back on us.

“i’ll boost the two of you up, and you swim. swim hard. swim with every last ounce you have.”

“what if we run out of breath?”

“you die in the bypass.” my blood runs cold - i’d never been a good swimmer. dream and george are the athletic ones out of the group. dream shoots me a look, and catches the anxiety that has carved into my features. his arm tightens around my waist, and i shiver at the contact.

“just swim, okay? trust me.” skeppy drops down on one knee, as to boost someone. “who’s first?”

“me.” i volunteer, without a second though. dream’s face flashes with something unreadable, and i unwrap myself from his arms. his grip is warm, and i kiss him - for safe kissing. in the silence we share, my sixteen year old self takes control, and i mutter out the quietest confession i can make in the silence of the riff:

_ “i’m scared.”  _

and dream’s face flashes with something again. maybe pity, fear or even sadness.

“i know. i know you are.” and without a second thought, i position myself on skeppy’s knee.

“three.”  _ regather - start again. we need to make it through this alive - all of us. _

“two.”  _ sapnap! my name is sapnap! theyre looking for me - dream and george. _

“one.”  _ maybe i was giving up, maybe i was done fighting. or maybe the fatigue had won and i needed to sleep.  _

i jump.

water.

_ swim. _

why can’t i breathe?

_ my throat hurts. _

surface, it breaks.

i breathe.

and blue eyes meet my own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh!!! we’re pretty much done now!! i finished writing the epilogue yesterday and im very happy with how it turned out! but yes happy ending guys is coming :)) also - i really wanted to touch on tommy and wilbur more (yes that was tommy) but i introduced him real late, so maybe in another story!!
> 
> comments appreciated!! ily all :)


	18. epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> all stories must come to an end

“ah - dream?”

“mm?”

“your arm is digging into my ribs.”

“shut up.”

“it’s cold.”

“stop hogging the quilt.”

“you suck.”

“shut up, shut up and sleep.”

“i’m hungry.”

“tea first.”

“george?”

“fine.”

it’s winter in narjeck, snow falling slowly across the sleepy town and the ringing of sleigh bells wakes us all from our slumber. somehow, all three of us have managed to slip into the king single bed - a goose down quilt shared between us all. george moves first, stretching in a cat like movement, before making a movement to pull the quilt away from us. dream fights back, tugging the quilt back over our heads and george huffs, rolling his eyes. 

“be lucky i love you two. i’m getting up to make you two tea at six am on a snow day.”

“mm - thank you georgie.” i sling my leg over dream’s hip slightly, and his palms splay themselves under my night shirt.

“yeah yeah - lucky you’re my favourite.” george stalks downstairs, running a hand through his messy curls, and dream mumbles out a quiet ‘fuck you’, which i snicker at. in a movement, i crack open one of my eyes to run a hand through dream’s messy night curls.

“good morning.” he mumbles, returning the favour as he messes with my locks which frame my pale cheeks.

“happy birthday.” 

“ah - nineteen, very anticlimactic. what can i do?”

“ah - buy drugs?” he snickers again, shoving my shoulder lightly, before pushing his leg under my side, before rolling me over so that i’m straddling his thin frame.

“could’ve done that anyways. remember how i was wanted for like - two years?”

“such a villain.” i tut, and his hands run lengths up my thighs and over my hip dips.

“wanna go riding today?”

“sure - i have errands to run in town anyways.”

“i mean - now?”

“in our night shirts. surely people will stare.”

“they stare anyways. let them. they wonder how i got this lucky with a boy like you.”

i roll my eyes, cheeks turning a blossoming red, before rolling myself off dream’s thighs and back onto the bed.

“don’t tell me you’re getting up now.” dream gasps,

“didn’t you say you wanted to ride?”

“only joking.” he pouts, “come back to bed?”

“i’m pretty set on the riding idea now. you got me hook line and sinker.”

“george will kill you for ruining your night shirt. it’s like - brand new.”

“my birthday is in a few months.”

“george refuses to buy you anymore clothes for your birthday because you wreck them by riding without the proper gear.”

“my boots are still fine.”

“yeah - because that’s the only piece of proper equipment you use when you ride.”

“asshole.” i curse, he grips my wrist.

“baby.”

“dickhead.”

“sweetheart.”

“fine. i’ll stay.” dream grins at his success before lifting the quilt to let me back in. i oblige, digging myself back under the quilt and dream throws a lazy arm across my chest. i huff, rolling my eyes.

“so, whatcha get me for my birthday?”

“nothing.”

“awe, sappy. you’re not fun.”

“cut it with the nicknames.”

“sappy nap.”

“you make me sick.” he grins, bashing his eyelashes at me, and i fake gag, rolling across to george’s side of the bed.

“at least take your shirt off for me.”

“you’re gross.” dream grins, staring at the roof as i slip a neatly wrapped box from out under the bed. the box is adorned with a thick satin bow, and patched with parchment paper from the local newspaper. dream smiles.

“ah - i knew you were too much of a baby to not get me a gift.”

“shut up.” i huff, blushing softly as george pads up the stairs again, opening the door with his back. the three cups sit steaming on the tray, chai stirring up whispers of steam as he sets them down on the bedside table. he messes with my hair and kisses dream as a simple good morning, before producing his own box which is wrapped similarly to mine.

“well - go on then.” george urges, and passes me a slightly chipped china cup. he looks anxiously between the two of us, before taking my box between his hands and tearing the paper.

inside sits the newest, gold detailed copy of ‘forestry greens’ i could find - detailed letters shining against the green backdrop of the cover, and dream grins wildly. 

“you didn’t.” dream grins, and george sends me a look that reads:

_ “i thought i told you not to get that for him because that was my idea.” _

oops.

“i did.” i smile and george groans, putting his head in his hands.

“you little shit - the book was my idea!”

“sorry?” george slaps my arm softly, and dream laughs as he pulls out the same identical copy of the book from george’s box. he presses kisses into our cheeks, and thanks us profusely - and george just shakes his head, grin written on his face.

“hey sap?” dream asks, putting the boxes aside.

“hm?”

“wanna go riding?”

george’s shouts chase after us as we dash out in the snow, night shirts fluttering in the cold air. i hoist my boots up fast, before climbing over the gate to the stables, pulling down my saddle.

“no saddle. bareback. first to the stream wins.”

“you’re on.”

maybe we’re okay. skeppy, dream and i all made it out of the riff safely, meeting george on the other side. skeppy somehow managed to flying jump from the floor up to the water, which made me somewhat confused - but skeppy was something else, so i never questioned. bad and karl also made their way back to ochraj, and embraced us with warm arms. george sat down and spoke with me for hours, about everything - and i had cried, because george loved me, and was never angry at me.

maybe it could’ve all been sorted if we simply just spoke to each other. i laughed at the idea.

bad, skeppy and karl all went back home together. karl always visited, every week actually. we walked through flower fields and had picnics as we had promised to do so long ago. i came home, my hair threaded with flowers and the two had laughed until their sides hurt.

“daisies look good on you, sapnap.” it was sincere, and it made me blush.

dream and george also sat down and spoke, for a few hours actually. they set everything out on the table, and pushed everything aside from what had happened. they came back from their walk, hand in hand and smiling wildly.

and i was happy.

dream worked at the local academy, training younger students how to fight, while george worked as a herbalist at the town’s medical centre. me? i tended to flowers all day - very manly, i know - but it made me happy, and they sold well in the spring.

the grave at mossland falls was long forgotten. the time i went back, i kicked over the headstone and sung to the universe, thanking it for bringing me home, smiling. 

and the skies, the wind and the land whispered back to me lulling melodies of what had passed. 

and what was still to come. 

THE END.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is it - the mage’s world series is finally over. thankyou so so much to everyone who has been here since the first few chapters of mword - until the day uploads that came from mwhisper. reading your comments everyday has brought me such joy and i thank every single person who has taken the time to write a few words in the comments. you all are so very sweet!!
> 
> until next time,
> 
> your friend - grace

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! kudos and comments appreciated !!


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